Spoiler
This actually came about from a writing exercise assignment for my Short Stories class, but I guess I took it a bit further than I was supposed to. 
I am considering making it into something bigger, adding some more history and whatnot to both of the characters, but I'm not sure. This is what I have for now. Comments are much appreciated!
I am considering making it into something bigger, adding some more history and whatnot to both of the characters, but I'm not sure. This is what I have for now. Comments are much appreciated!The scent of smoke hit me like a tidal wave as I rounded the corner through the dim hallway. Charlotte was aware of the no-smoking policy, but somehow the smell kept mysteriously returning. Neighbors were complaining, and I had decided that enough was enough.
Lights flickered above me as I walked. Didn't I hire another maintenance worker for this? But I didn't have time to ponder it further so I went on.
The familiar, continuous rows of doors on the third floor reminded me of when I first rented an apartment of my own as a terrified college graduate in a strange, grown-up world. A scene of unpacking, and the emotion with it--the elation of finally being truly on my own, but with doubts hovering at the back of my mind--made me smile.
Apartment 26 was directly in front of me now, the chipped paint of the once shiny-gold numbers catching my eye. I took a breath and released it slowly. Then, I reached up and rapped on the door in a way that I hoped sounded authoritative.
I checked my watch. I had only a few minutes to spare before I had to leave for an appointment across town. I had previously considered postponing this meeting a few days, but I had already made my decision; there was no use delaying it further.
Dull thuds on the carpet from inside told me that Charlotte was home. A distrusting eye peered through the peephole. It widened as Charlotte recognized me.
"What is it this time, Beatrice?" Charlotte's tired voice greeted me before the door was fully open.
When Charlotte's face came into view, I noticed that her thinning, gray-brown hair was cropped just below the chin, shorter than it was my previous visit.
Charlotte was not a pretty woman--All I could think when I looked into her cloudy eyes was that she appeared much older that she really was. She was wearing a baggy T-shirt, loose-fitting sweatpants and a pair of white socks with the dark color of the toes misaligned.
"Hello, Charlotte." My eyes found the clutter filling the room behind her--the piles of boxes, miscellaneous objects and abandoned trash. Multicolored stains littered the carpet, and there were several instances of large, black scuff marks on the walls that had been a pristine white when she moved in four months ago.
With those observations, my sympathies for her and two jobs she had to work to keep up with her bills vanished. After all, it didn't cost a penny to do basic housekeeping.
The sound of Charlotte's muted television could be heard over the painful silence that I had undoubtedly caused.
I remembered my tight schedule and forced myself to focus. "Charlotte, there is something I need to discuss with you." I made an effort to keep eye contact with the woman in front of me. "I've received several complaints from neighbors, and I know I've warned you several times now about--"
I stopped abruptly as I noticed a small figure half-crouched behind the threshold, clinging to Charlotte's pant leg and staring up at me uneasily. The boy couldn't have been more that six years old. In one hand he held a momentarily-forgotten toy car. But what caught my attention was those eyes
His eyes were wide, and the same shade of brown that Charlotte's may have been once, many years ago when there was life in them. Despite this, what was most disconcerting was how just by looking, I could tell that those eyes knew more than a six-year-old should.
"Who is this lady, Mommy?" His voice, quiet and apprehensive, told me that he might already understand my purpose for standing here.
Charlotte hushed him with a raised finger. Her eyes were almost as wide as her son's.
"I--"
The boy's eyes had seen things that no child should ever have to see. They were deep pools that revealed a mysterious, painful past, a trying present and a fearful, unknown future.
I shook my head. "Charlotte, smoking is not allowed in this building. You know that."
"It won't happen again." Her voice was pleading.
"Look, Charlotte, I just--" I sighed, and my mouth twitched, twisting into a sort of half-smile. "Just...take care of yourself, all right?" Her lips pressed together as she nodded.
"Thank you, Beatrice." I knew she was smiling to me, but my gaze was focused on her son, who had returned his attention to the toy car in his hand.
The boy said something to his mother as she eased the door closed, but I was already walking back down the hallway, my mind on my next appointment.
