A/N: oops.

guess ill just give up on one fic and start another. heh.

I live in one of those unfortunate homes built right next to an apartment building.

Not like a huge bustling one, but a small one with perhaps six or eight apartments in it. It's a tad bit run down and shabby, with the smell of Indian food always emitting from it. It's not like I don't fancy the smell, I just find it rather odd that I can sometimes smell curry in the living room at two in the morning.

I moved into my home a few months ago when my cousins Jane and John and my uncle who insists I call him Dad invited me to stay with them when my Nan passed away. I had been raised my by Nan and spent my nineteen years going on excavation trips with her to faraway places. Not many people can say that on their ninth birthday, they uncovered the tomb of a lost Egyptian pharaoh, but I can.

When Nan passed, we had been on a little known island in the Pacific, looking for the remnants of a lost civilization. Once Dad heard wind of it, he and my cousins sent a plane out to fetch me and take me to Washington. They set me up in their spare bedroom, complete with the canopy bed Jane had as a girl. Dad apologized, and said they were going to buy me a new bed, but I insisted I didn't mind.

A few feet away from the bed, there is a window. It's adorned with antique lace curtains and on the sill there are little harlequin statues, one with a missing hand. Outside, I have the perfect view of a window from the third floor apartment, roughly twelve yards away. Its dirty, metal blinds are always drawn closed, and sometimes at night I can see the silhouette of a person.

I never really took much interest in the window across from mine- until one day they opened their blinds.