In the quiet suburban town of San Clemente, the arrival of a mysterious new neighbor has disrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
Rumors swirl around the boy who moved in just a few weeks ago, and soon enough, the tranquil streets are overrun with flashi...
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July 12 2000
THE PAST WEEK HAS BEEN HELL.
Like navigating through a storm. My nights were filled with police noise from the outside of my window. My dad worked overtime now, and my mom has been getting even more paranoid with the constant arrival of the police. The neighbors haven't even been here a week. A week. And they already made my life a living hell. Whether they know it or not.
Yet, it was he who held the key to my torment. The boy I saw the first day they moved in. Each time he came home, he did so with a wildness that commanded attention, as if the entire world bowed to his presence. Last night I was awoken by the loud bass of his car speeding down the street, announcing his arrival. To my surprise, a girl got out of his car. I'd never seen her before. She was clad in a scandalously tight outfit and heels that dared to touch the moon. It was clear he picked her up from some club. They disappeared into the house, leaving me wide awake, throbbing with a painful headache.
But that wasn't the worst part. Some cruel twist of fate had placed my bedroom window directly opposite his, meaning I see everything that happens in his room, and he can see everything that happens in mine. I keep my curtains drawn, but in the mornings I open them to welcome the sun into my room. And I'm introduced to the vast space of his room. From my view, I can see his bed and his neat arrangement of posters that cover his wall. Surprisingly, his room looks clean. Someone of his nature would make me think otherwise. But for once he proved me wrong.
There was an incident, an event that confirmed my suspicions about the treacherous game we were playing with our intertwined windows. I excepted something like this, but not in the way it happened. I was sitting lost in the pages of "Little Woman" for what felt like the hundredth time when a chill swept over me. The wind found its way through my open window. Hastily, I moved to shut it, but as my hand reached for the latch, my eyes betrayed me. They fixated on his room, compelled by some invisible force. And then, as if summoned, he materialized within those four walls, shutting the door with gentle precision. Standing there, back turned to me, I observed the faint lines of muscle that rippled through his flexing back, concealed beneath his shirt. His body rose up and down, seeming as though he was breathing heavily. Suddenly, he punched the wall, fist colliding with plaster. His anger echoed, his hands running through his hair as he was taking a step back. I stood there, an unwitting witness to his private torment, unable to tear my gaze away. I could feel my breath deepen, scared he'll turn around and see me.
He rubbed his hands over his face, in an attempt to regain composure. and stood still. At that moment, he stood like a lone warrior battling his darkest thoughts. he was like that for a couple of seconds before he turned around. When he turned, his piercing gaze found mine, freezing me in place. Though yards apart, his eyes bore into mine, bridging the gap between us. With measured steps, he approached his window, a predator closing in on its prey. All while I stood there, waiting. As he reached the window, he seized the blinds, closing them with deliberate force. I stood there, dazed and confused, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Since that encounter, I made a vow to avoid that window at all costs. Afraid of getting caught in his relentless gaze once again. Besides, He's already caught me looking at him twice, I don't want him to catch me again.
