When I was younger, I tried to go get the ball from the neighbors porch. But my father got me in time before I got it. I cried, begging him to let me get it, but he just took me upstairs and left me there.
The next morning, the same ball was in my garden, and I knew it was him. He always gets my ball whenever it rolls over into their lawn. For some reason, I felt bad again. What if he had gotten hurt trying to get my ball again? So I decided to go into our garden at night. I snuck out quietly and rushed towards my mini playground. I got to the top of the hangout where I would see the boy.
The little boy was there again, and I smiled while waving at him. But when he returned it, I saw blood leaking from his hands-again. I got scared again, but I felt bad because I knew his parents did that because of the ball. I hear glass break and the kitchen lights turn on. I got down thinking it's my dad coming to check. I go around to the other side, but instead I see-3 masked men? I hide quietly as they seemed to be holding what looked like-guns?
I hear yelling and helps as I sneak into the house again. I hear more glass breaking and shuffling before the same men run out again.
"D-Daddy?" I get up and go to his room. I thought I'd find him standing, but he's laying in bed.
"Daddy?" I ask again as tears pour into my eyes. I climb the bed and see blood all over it.
"Daddy please wake up!" My voice starts to break as I see his eyes looking lifeless.
I start sobbing and yelling for help, but before I could do anything, everything fades into black. I'm curled up, sobbing as his lifeless body walks over to me, blaming me for everything.
"Stop it, please!" And I feel darkness engulf me with voices blaming me, telling me its all my fault.
I see the little boy staring at me with bloody hands.
"I helped you... I helped you get the ball, yet you never helped me."
"You never helped me."
"I-I'm sorry..." I try to yell but it comes out as a whisper. "I'm sorry, I tried to help-"
"No, you didn't..."
"It's all your fault. You didn't help us." Blood starts pouring out of his eyes and I scream, rocking to try to fade everything away.
~~~~
"Shit!" I yell, getting up to get ready. I look in the mirror, my face looking pale. Stop. He's not real. He's not fucking real, I thought to myself. It's not your fault.
What could I have done? Absolutely nothing. I have school in an hour, but I feel like it was a mile away. My arms were trembling from yesterdays workout.
~~~~
I park in my usual spot and walk the rest to campus. A lot more people were here since it's exam week. Even though my grades are high, I still revised just to be sure. I push open the door and walk through security as usual.
I only had Arts, English, and Science today. I'm lucky since Art is first, I love it so much. I reach my locker and turn the lock to enter to code. The moment I open my locker, books fall out, with fake blood falling out the locker. Fear ignites in my heart as I look around to see people having mixed reactions.
Then I see a ball. The same exact volleyball that-the little boy gave me.
What the actual fuck? Who would do this?
I slam my locker shut, turn my head and lock eyes with a pair of brown ones. And just by they way he stood so carelessly, I knew it was him. I knew it was something about my mother's book. He knows something I don't. He turns around and walks away into the dimmed light hallway.
YOU ARE READING
The Neighbor Next Door
Fantasy"Oh dear, we don't ever go near that door....No one in the flat does. The 'mean' man that lives there is August Romanov." ~ ~ ~ My father was always warned by every neighbor in town to never go near, or knock on that house. Father always hated it wh...
