No One Believed Me—Until It Was Too Late / Chapter 5: Snake on the Balcony
No One Believed Me—Until It Was Too Late

No One Believed Me—Until It Was Too Late

Author: Anna Miller

Chapter 5: Snake on the Balcony

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I remembered that my balcony overlooked the courtyard, so I went out to look.

The wind was sharp, carrying the distant sounds of sirens. I leaned over the railing, scanning the ground below.

She wasn’t downstairs, so I figured she must have gone home.

I let out a shaky breath, hoping she’d made it out safe.

There—hanging from the balcony below—was a huge snake’s tail.

It was thick, mottled, and unmistakably alive. My heart nearly stopped.

And their floor-to-ceiling window was wide open.

The curtain fluttered, and I saw a flash of movement inside. I grabbed my phone, snapping a photo as fast as I could.

I quickly took a photo and posted it in the group, warning the downstairs resident to be careful.

My message was urgent, all caps: "SNAKE ON THE BALCONY! WINDOW OPEN! CLOSE YOUR WINDOWS NOW!"

Mrs. Ramirez freaked out. She recognized her son’s bib hanging on the balcony.

Panic in her voice. She was losing it. Her messages came fast and frantic. She sent voice notes, her words tumbling over each other in panic.

Her voice was shrill, desperate. I could hear her baby crying in the background.

She kept shouting, "That’s my apartment! Someone please save my baby!"

Nobody moved. Nobody dared. Her pleas were gut-wrenching. The chat went dead silent.

"Only my mother-in-law and son are home! Why didn’t my mother-in-law close the window!"

She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. The guilt in her voice was palpable.

The group went silent. Everyone knew if they responded, they’d be expected to help.

Nobody wanted to step up. I watched the dots flicker as people typed, then deleted their replies.

But nobody was willing to take that risk.

I couldn’t blame them. Fear makes cowards of us all.

Mrs. Ramirez frantically tagged management, but they ignored her.

Her desperation was met with silence. Management had gone radio silent, probably hiding in their office.

I couldn’t stand it. I told her to call home right away and tell her mother-in-law to find a safe place to hide and wait for the snake to leave.

My message was direct: "Call your mother-in-law. Tell her to lock herself and the baby in a room. Stay quiet. Don’t move."

Ten minutes later, Mrs. Ramirez added me as a friend through the group chat.

I hesitated, but accepted. The situation was too serious for grudges.

She video-called me over and over, but I didn’t answer.

I let the phone ring. I wasn’t about to risk my own life.

At a time like this, everyone was just worried about themselves.

Not a hero. Just human. Self-preservation kicked in. I hated myself for it, but I wasn’t a hero.

I didn’t want to bring trouble to myself either.

I turned off my ringer, heart pounding.

Mrs. Ramirez then demanded that I go to her apartment to check the situation, and preferably bring her son and mother-in-law to my place to keep them safe.

I almost caved. But I couldn’t. Her messages were pleading, almost hysterical. I felt my resolve waver, but fear held me back.

But with the snake’s location still unknown, there was no way I was going out.

I typed out a reply, hands shaking: "I can’t. It’s not safe."

Even if there was no snake in the hallway, who knew if the one in her place had left? Going over would just be asking for trouble.

My mind raced through worst-case scenarios. I wasn’t about to become another victim.

Staying put was the safest option.

I double-checked my locks, feeling the weight of my decision.

Besides, I’d already done my best by warning her.

I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. I reminded myself I wasn’t responsible for everyone.

I steeled myself not to reply.

I set my phone aside, trying to block out her messages.

Mrs. Ramirez called me out directly in the group chat: "908, why aren’t you answering my video calls? Are you just going to watch us die and do nothing?"

Not this time. Her words stung, but I stayed silent. I wasn’t about to be guilted into risking my life.

With the conflict shifting, other residents jumped in to criticize me. Messages flooded the chat.

People who’d been silent all day now had plenty to say. The hypocrisy was infuriating.

[Yeah, since you saw it, you should help!]

[We’re all neighbors—if you can help, you should. 606 is a single mom, 908, don’t be so selfish!]

All talk. No action. Their words felt hollow. None of them were offering to help, either.

Easy for them to say, sitting on the sidelines.

I typed out a reply, fingers flying.

Just a minute ago, they were all pretending not to see anything. Now they’re playing the heroes.

I was done playing scapegoat. I hit send before I could second-guess myself.

I was furious and shot back: [If you’re all so concerned, why don’t you go?]

[I’ve reminded everyone over and over to lock your doors and windows and not go out. You didn’t listen, and now you’re blaming me?]

[608, 605! One next door, one across the hall—why don’t you go? It’s right on your way, you go!]

For a moment, the topic shifted.

The chat went quiet. Nobody wanted to volunteer.

The guy from 608 said he wasn’t home, and 605 changed their tune and agreed with me.

Their excuses came fast. Suddenly, everyone had somewhere else to be.

Mrs. Ramirez was still extremely anxious.

Her messages were a blur of panic and pleading. I could feel her fear through the screen.

Her latest private message begged: [Sis, my child isn’t even a year old. Please help me!]

She sent crying emojis, her desperation palpable.

She even forwarded me a video from her mother-in-law.

The footage was shaky, the baby’s cries piercing. My heart twisted at the sight.

The baby was crying non-stop, his whole face red from holding his breath. He looked so pitiful.

The mother-in-law’s voice was thin, trembling. She rocked the baby, trying to soothe him.

Her mother-in-law was pacing the bedroom, trying to calm him down.

I could see the fear in her eyes, the way she kept glancing at the door.

I told her snakes are sensitive to vibrations and to stop moving.

Just sit. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. My message was blunt: "Sit down. Stay still. Don’t make noise. Snakes hunt by sensing movement."

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