The Neighbor II

What Can I Do?

Ben got out of his car in front of the familiar, abandoned place he used to call home. He wasn't sure what to expect when coming here; maybe seeing a family happily residing in it, but it was abandoned. The wood was decaying, the roof caving, the grass almost looked like it could be a crop field, it was so long.

The caution tape that was put on the door twenty years ago looked as if it had been torn off, then taped back on several times. The windows were broken, as well. He didn't mind that it looked like this. This is how he saw it when he lived here.

He took a look across the street to Chuck's house to see it was in even worse condition. It didn't even look like a house. It was destroyed with graffiti and the word "KILLER", shattered windows, cracked wood, absolutely no roof because it looked like the wood rotted away.

Ben turned back to his old place and started walking up the driveway. He got to the door and took away the weakened caution tape. He went to open the door, but hesitated for a moment. He was wondering if this was a good idea. He knew it wasn't and was so tempted to call Cassie for help like she had told him to. But he wasn't killing anyone, just simply taking a painful trip down memory lane.

After taking a deep breath, he opened the door and slowly pushed it open. He looked around the entry way and noticed everything still as it was twenty years ago. There was the little table by the door that his father would balance himself on after coming home from a night of drinking.

As Ben walked further in, he saw the hole in the wall that his father made when he got angry one night. Then there was the usual house appliances that made them seem like a normal family; a living room with a couch, a kitchen with a table and a fridge, bedrooms, etc..

Ben stood in the middle of the house, in between the kitchen and living room, in front of the stairs. Absolutely nothing has been changed, not even the absurd amount of dust on the furniture because nothing in this house was clean anyways. It was always smelt like booze and weed.

With a loud sigh, he continued up the stairs with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He walked down the hall, past the old bathroom, and stopped in front of his room. He tapped the door open with his foot and walked in as it opened.

No toys. No bed, just a mattress. Bars on the windows. And a big empty space in the middle of the room that he used to describe his heart. He always figured it could never be filled, until he met Cassie. Nothing has changed about the room. This was simply it.

He walked in further and looked down at the mattress. How many times had he cried himself to sleep here? How many times had he hid from his father under his blanket? How many times had he wished he had an actual bed to hide underneath when his mother got high on meth?

Ben violently shook his head as he felt a sudden rage surge through him. He quickly walked out of the room, kicking a few books out of the way as he went. He needed to get out of here because this was the source of his anger, of who he is today. How he came from this house of horrors to an apartment he built in New York with his pregnant wife and child, without being put on death row already will forever boggle his mind.

He hastily walked down the stairs and was just about to get the hell out, when there was a sudden clicking sound right next to him. It sounded like someone cocking back a shotgun. He stopped and turned towards the noise, only to be greeted with shotgun barrel in his face.

"Who the hell are you?" The owner of the gun asked. Ben slowly put up his hands and said, "I don't mean any harm. I used to live in this house, I just wanted to see how it was holding up." The barrel came down to where Ben could see a young man's face.