Vertical cover with a dark, warm atmosphere. Henrietta stands in her living room looking toward the ceiling as pink sound waves represent footsteps from the floor above. The title reads “The Footsteps Upstairs,” with the subtitle “A Henrietta Chiaretti Story” and the sound effect “Tap... tap...”.

The Footsteps Upstairs #1

Henrietta Chiaretti’s morning begins earlier than expected when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor wakes her at seven o’clock.

At first, the footsteps she hears above her seem to be part of the building’s usual sounds. But when Henrietta realizes that they stop, move, and change rhythm along with her, a simple morning annoyance turns into a strange game between two neighbors who never see each other.

Is it merely a coincidence, an acoustic phenomenon, or a conversation conducted entirely through footsteps?

The Footsteps Upstairs is a short story of everyday mystery, curiosity, and humor starring Henrietta Chiaretti.

Table of Contents
  1. Manga version
  2. Prose version
  3. Epilogue (coming soon)

Manga version

Three-panel page. The top shows the apartment building on a clear morning; below, Henrietta wakes in her bedroom at 7:00 a.m., rubs one eye, and then looks toward the ceiling from bed when she hears “SCRRRAAAPE.” She thinks, “Dragging a chair up there again at this hour...?”
Henrietta sits on the bed while reflecting on the sounds buildings make. She then prepares coffee in the kitchen and, in the bottom panel, opens the lilac curtains across the large glass doors while holding her mug. Two footsteps sound overhead: “Tap. Tap.”
Henrietta walks through the living room with her coffee; a second view from behind shows the footsteps above moving in the same direction. In the bottom panel, a wide overhead view shows her stopped between the red sofa, coffee table, and television. The captions conclude, “I stopped. So did the footsteps.”
In the large panel, Henrietta looks at the ceiling lamp while holding her mug. Below, an imagined cutaway shows two apartments with nearly identical layouts but differently colored furniture and two female silhouettes; in the final panel, Henrietta opens the refrigerator and waits without intending to take anything out.
Henrietta closes the refrigerator while looking upward, leaves the kitchen, and walks down the hallway in time with the footsteps above. The bottom panel shows the bathroom in the foreground and Henrietta near the doorway in the background; the narration says that upstairs they followed the same route.
Henrietta returns from the hallway to the living room. She hears “Tap... tap...” again and remains attentive near the sofa and television. A final close-up shows her curious, concerned expression as she recognizes that the event now requires too many coincidences to explain.
Henrietta stands completely still in the middle of the living room and waits for five and then ten seconds. After a silent close-up, the bottom panel shows her taking two long, quick steps beside the coffee table. The sound effect reads “Tap. Tap.”
Henrietta waits while standing and looking toward the ceiling. Her two steps receive an identical “Tap. Tap.” from above as she cautiously touches the side of her neck. In the final close-up, her expression changes from alarm to intense curiosity.
Henrietta wonders whether her footsteps could be traveling through the pipes; a white diagram of ducts and sound waves is superimposed over the living room. She decides to seek proof, and the bottom panel uses three successive translucent poses to show two quick steps and one slow step: “Tap. Tap... tap.”
Henrietta looks toward the ceiling as the exact rhythm “Tap. Tap... tap.” is repeated from above. A close-up shows her surprise as she rejects the pipe theory. Below, she imagines two stacked living rooms with the same layout: she appears as a lilac silhouette downstairs, while the neighbor appears as a red silhouette upstairs among differently styled furniture.
Henrietta has an idea and points upward beneath a drawing of a light bulb. She walks slowly through the living room while the footsteps match her pace, then accelerates and runs down the hallway toward the bedroom, accompanied by a loud “TAP TAP TAP.”
In the large panel, Henrietta turns around in the hallway and heads back to the living room while the footsteps trace a strange route above her head. Below, she smiles with puzzled amusement as the event begins to feel like a game. Finally, she raises one arm like an orchestra conductor, and a soft “TOK” answers from above.
Henrietta lowers her hand and hears another “TOK,” reacting with disbelief. In the hallway, she imagines how she might ask whether the neighbor is copying her footsteps. The bottom panel opens onto the complete, silent living room as Henrietta waits without receiving an answer.
Henrietta mentally plans three short steps toward the window and one long step back; a numbered dotted line marks the route through the living room. A close-up shows her raised foot. Before she can set it down, she hears a new rhythm from above: “Tap... tap-tap... tap.”
A close-up of Henrietta looking at the ceiling accompanies the repeated new rhythm. Several overlapping positions then show her imitating it with one slow step, two quick ones, and another slow step. The bottom panel shows her surprised in the living room as she realizes that she is now copying the person upstairs.
Henrietta smiles toward the ceiling with the feeling that both women are smiling at the same time. She then sits on the red sofa and drinks her now-cold coffee. In the final panel, she holds the mug and jokes that if the neighbor copies everything, she could clean the kitchen too: “I think I’ve found her.”
Henrietta remains seated on the sofa with her mug as the apartment returns to silence: there are no footsteps, chairs, or further knocks. A close-up shows her wondering whether it was a coincidence, an acoustic problem, or a conversation. The final panel opens onto the whole living room and says that tomorrow she will wait to discover which of them takes the first step; the words “THE END” appear.

Prose version

Good morning.

Today I woke up before my alarm went off.

Not because I wanted to. At exactly seven o’clock, someone dragged a chair across the floor in the apartment above mine.

SCRRRAAAPE.

I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.

“The neighbor’s up early again…”

It wasn’t the first time I had heard her. Buildings have sounds of their own: pipes, doors, furniture, and people who decide to walk around in shoes at impossible hours. So I got up, made some coffee, and tried to get on with my morning.

While I waited for the water to boil, I walked over to the window to open the curtains.

That was when I heard a pair of footsteps upstairs.

I didn’t pay them any attention.

I headed back to the kitchen.

Two seconds later, the footsteps crossed the ceiling in the same direction.

I stopped.

So did the footsteps.

I looked up, even though I knew perfectly well I wasn’t going to discover anything by staring at a lamp.

I kept walking.

Upstairs, they started moving again.

The simplest explanation was that we had similar routines. The apartments in the building had almost the same layout. If my kitchen was there, hers probably was too. It wouldn’t be strange for two people who had just woken up to walk toward the same places.

I opened the refrigerator.

I stood in front of it for a few seconds, pretending to look for something even though I wasn’t actually planning to take anything out.

Silence.

I closed it.

I left my mug on the table and headed down the hallway.

The footsteps returned.

I walked to the bathroom.

Upstairs, they followed the same route.

I went back to the living room.

So did they.

It could still be a coincidence, although it was beginning to take far too many coincidences to explain.

I stood completely still in the middle of the living room, listening.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Nothing.

I took two quick steps.

Tap. Tap.

I waited.

Two footsteps came from above.

Tap. Tap.

A small shiver ran through me, but curiosity got the better of me before I could get scared.

Perhaps the building distorted sounds. Maybe my own footsteps traveled through some pipe and only seemed to come from the ceiling. I didn’t know whether that made any sense, but it sounded technical enough to reassure me.

I needed a less accidental test.

I took two quick steps, waited a moment, and finished with a slow one.

Tap. Tap… tap.

Upstairs, they repeated the exact same rhythm.

Tap. Tap… tap.

I could no longer blame the pipes.

I looked at the ceiling.

For the first time, I imagined the neighbor standing in a living room identical to mine, staring at the floor and wondering why the girl in the apartment below was walking in such a ridiculous way.

I decided to try something else.

I walked very slowly.

The footsteps followed at the same pace.

I sped up.

They sped up too.

I turned around and headed back to the living room.

The footsteps traced a strange path above my head.

I couldn’t help smiling.

It no longer felt like a threat. It felt more like a game that neither of us had bothered to explain.

I gave a cue in the air, as though I were conducting an invisible orchestra.

A soft knock came from upstairs.

I lowered my hand.

Another knock.

“This can’t be…”

I thought about going upstairs and knocking on her door, but I didn’t know how to start that conversation.

Good morning. Are you copying my footsteps, or are we having exactly the same problem?

While I tried to decide, everything fell silent.

I waited.

Nothing.

I planned another sequence in my head: three short steps toward the window and one long step back. This time, it would be impossible to mistake it for ordinary walking.

I lifted one foot.

But before I put it down, I heard the footsteps upstairs.

Tap… tap-tap… tap.

It was a new rhythm.

I stayed still.

The sequence repeated.

Tap… tap-tap… tap.

Without thinking too much, I copied it.

One slow step.

Two quick ones.

Another slow one.

When I finished, I realized what I had just done.

Now I was the one copying the person upstairs.

I kept looking at the ceiling and, although I couldn’t see her, I had the strange feeling that we were both smiling at that moment.

After that, I didn’t hear anything else.

I picked up my mug from the table and sat down on the sofa. The coffee was already cold.

I thought that if the neighbor really wanted to copy everything I did, she could clean my kitchen too. I had been thinking about hiring someone for days.

I think I’ve found her.

But there were no footsteps.

No chairs.

No other knock.

I still don’t know whether it was a coincidence, an acoustic problem, or a very strange conversation between two people who never got to see each other.

Tomorrow, I’m going to get up at the same time.

But this time, I won’t take the first step.

I want to know which one of us starts.

Epilogue (coming soon)

I’m developing a small “extra” to accompany the story of this manga; I’ll add 5 additional pages where she grapples with what happened in her apartment and tries unsuccessfully to explain the event.

That’s all, there will be more news about this manga soon, thanks for reading this far

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