Love Thy Neighbour

I generally love my neighbours. Actually, I barely interact with them. I live in an apartment. It has a bedroom, a living room, a kitchen and a balcony and one or two people at max can easily live in it. That's what I thought until I saw the people upstairs. Six, yes six people live in the apartment above mine that adjoins the terrace. I don't know how they even fit in there without covering all the walking room with mattresses. But that's none of my business. I never had anything to give or take form them until that one fateful day.

I did my laundry and went up to the terrace to dry it off. While I was drying it off, the family's resident "Chucky" who happens to be a 5-6 year old permanently naked boy was staring at me in this evil way. Like he was trying to glare into my soul. Like he was going to kill me in my sleep. Like he knew something and I didn't. Anyway, he kept following me around and glaring at me the way he does as I hung my clothes up on the lines. I didn't think anything of it.

I came back the next day to pick up my fresh, dry clothes and there they were, lying in a pile on the floor. I was horrified. I took them downstairs nonetheless, noticing that my colourful clothes clips had been stolen. I then began to fold them. That's when I noticed the strange smell.

I picked up a white t-shirt and there it was; a yellow, liquidy, translucent looking patch. The smell was that of urine. I was horrified. I was disgusted. I was livid.

I talked to everyone I could get in touch with. I fumed and vented and paced. I probably even puffed steam put of my nostrils. I then decided that I was going to confront him. I considered taking a knife along with me.

I marched up the stairs with a purpose; and there they were, the patriarch of the family and his wife. He was large, lethargic and shirtless; with the largest male-breasts I've ever seen (my apologies for the disgusting nature of that description). The man had hair pouring out of every orifice of his body. It grew form his shoulders. I didn't even know that hair grew on shoulders. He was like some mythical beast.

His wife was well suited. Large and lard-like. She had glorious facial hair which surpassed a lot of my male friends'. I decided not to confront them because even if I was wielding a meat cleaver, I doubt I could've gotten past the first layer of adipose. All my attempts at self defense would've been futile. I didn't want to take that chance. Despite how brave I am. But the evil peeing kid still taunts me.

I need my revenge. Any suggestions?

P.S.: They can never know it's me. If they know it's me, I'll die. So give me good suggestions. I'm serious. I don't want to die,