The lights were still not on, Peter observed before he dropped the curtain. The microwave pinged and he served himself the leftover macaroni. As he ate, Peter Rovers thought about what he was going to do.
He wasn't a stalker, far from it, but in five years, he knew his opposite neighbor's routine. On weekdays, she left for work by ten in the morning and got back by four in the evening, he had lost track of her routine on weekends as she kept odd hours then. In the past two weeks, he had not seen his neighbor leave or get back home, he wondered what was wrong.
He washed up and went to his bedroom, Peter rolled his eyes as he stood before the mirror. At 5'9, he was quite handsome with sandy brown hair he could run his fingers through. The blue eyes he inherited from the Irish part of his family was said to be his best features. It had toned down a bit with the stress of working, but he still maintained a bit of the athlete body he had gained back in college, he managed to run a few times and spend a couple of hours in the gym in a week. Nodding with approval of how he looked, Peter headed outside.
It wasn't dark yet but the streets were quiet, not only as a result of the falling rain, this was how it had always been since he moved into the suburbs seven years ago. It consisted of rows of similar looking bungalows with occupants ranging from young couples to elderly couples. While everyone lived a private life and tended to keep to themselves, they were still friends though, and they looked out for each other.
The first thing he noticed when he got to her lawn was the opened mailbox which was overflowing. The rain had succeeded in ruining most of the mails, he closed it knowing the act was useless. Her lawn needed a good cutting as it stood out from the others, not for any other thing, but with its overgrown grass. Then the piled up newspapers on her porch, he noticed the dates, they went back a week. He walked up the front stairs then rang the bell, he heard the sound of the bell from within. Three rings and yet no reply. That got him worried. In the past, he knew his neighbor Emily responded on time. He decided to knock this time around and his worry increased on the third knock.
Peter looked around to see if anyone was watching him before he peeped through a window, it was dark from within. He doubted she was away, he could hear the low tunes coming from the TV set.
He cursed when a thought occurred to him, he should have done it long ago. He lifted up a potted plant and found a spare key. With biased thoughts, Peter slid the key into the hole, the door flung open and he stepped into a hallway that was identical to his.
"Emily!" Peter called out, closing the door behind him, the last thing he wanted was to be attacked with a baseball bat or something worse after all most ladies did that as self-defense technique in movies. He thought making a mental note to dodge whatever comes his way.
"Emily! Peter called out louder, moving farther into the house, he found himself in the living room, it was the same size as his, but barely furnished with a green couch and a few stools, the TV which stood at the end of a wall was put on a food station. Painstakingly, he took in his surroundings, a box of pizza lay on the floor with a couple of empty beer bottles.
He grimaced, what could be worse was if Emily was with a man in her room. It would not only be awkward, but he would have a lot of explanation to make.
"Emily, it's Peter your neighbor. Just checking up on you." Peter said louder for the benefit of a visitor, he got no response like the previous times. He sighed, then stepped into a room he knew was the kitchen, it looked more lived in than his, the sink was flooded with plates. Still no Emily. With crossed fingers, he walked down a corridor and stood outside the bedroom door. The hairs at the back of his neck stood