Eyes Like Hellfire [Completed]

Chapter 1

"Aunt Aggie? Is someone moving in next door?" I asked eyes glued to the window. My aunt came up behind me and batted me on the back of the head. "Why else would there be a moving truck outside, silly?"

"It was just a question, Auntie," I answered, laughing. I then turned towards my aunt, who wasn't run-of-the-mill, mind you. She was young, beautiful, and always joking with me, more a friend than an authority figure. But God was she a force to be reckoned with. I learned that the hard way. Unfortunately. And so did many of her past boyfriends.

"Well, next time ask a better question." She ruffled my hair and walked away, grinning when I protested and tried to put it back in place. She knew how I hated when peopled messed up my hair like that, though she did it anyway, always calling me a diva afterwards.

I rolled my eyes at her, a smile on my face. It always made me happy when my aunt messed with me.

"I saw that eye roll, Mickey."

"Dammit," I whispered, or what I assumed was a whisper.

"And that."

I laughed a little harder, and turned back to the window as my aunt went back into the kitchen. Curiosity was overtaking my better judgment, and my manners. I had been watching the moving truck do nothing but sit on the side of the road for twenty minutes. I had no idea how long it had been idle on the road, or how much longer it would be idle, but I had to see my new neighbors.

The person who used to live next door, Mrs. Needleman, was a frail old woman. Her bones were outlined by her skin, showing almost every detail of her skeleton, no exaggerations. She was as short as a mere child, and so fragile and ancient that you would think that a simple touch could send her crumbling into a pile of ash and dust. Not to mention she was the Guinness Book of World Records winner for Most Annoying Neighbor Ever.

She couldn't handle even the slightest loud noise, or noise at all, for the matter. Whether it was the bark of a dog, the squeak of a mouse, or the sound of cannon fire, Mrs. Needleman and her cane weren't having it. It would always aggravate my aunt and me whenever she would complain about the TV being too loud or the stereo volume being up too high. However, to our delight, she retired and moved to the sunny state of Florida five months ago. Let's just say that she won't be missed.

After Mrs. Needleman, I absolutely had to see who my new next door neighbor would be.

After a few more minutes of sitting by the window, just when I was about to give up, a car pulled up behind the moving truck. I sat up a little taller, preparing myself for who would be my new neighbor.

I pleaded that it wasn't another person like Mrs. Needleman, ancient and high maintenance. A million different scenarios were going through my head about who these new people could be. Everything from a single middle-aged man who worked as a bank teller and had never had an interesting day in his life, to an enormous family with eight young children and two dogs raced through my mind.

The car doors opened, and I held my breath.

Please be a good neighbor; please be a good neighbor.

Out of the car emerged a middle-aged man with light brown hair. He looked like an office worker: tucked in button down shirt, gray slacks, loafers, and a wine tie. He was the epitome of normal coming out of his four-door car. There wasn't a hair out of place, wasn't a single wrinkle on his shirt. Mr. Perfect just moved in next door.

Great, a stickler. Just what I feared.

I was about to go into the kitchen and relay everything to my aunt, when I saw the passenger side door open a little.

Great, he has a wife, too. Mrs. Perfect.

I was just about to turn around again when something dazzled and caught my attention. I turned around to look at what was sparkling in the sun. I froze, stunned. A stud on a combat boot was what caught my eye. A girl, about sixteen, my age, came out of the car, clad in black and leather. Black skinny jeans, a leather jacket, and Bullet for my Valentine t-shirt laced her body, fitting her perfectly. Her hair was jet black, streaks of red appearing every so often. My mouth dropped open in astonishment. I couldn't believe that the two were related. Mr. Perfect's daughter was a rocker.

"Auntie!"

My aunt ran into the room, panic written on her features. "What, what's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"

I shook my head no, and beckoned her to come towards me with my hand. She simply had to see this. She would never believe me if I just told her.

They were so different, so opposite from one another. And so interesting. In our little town, this was news. A new neighbor was of course news, but this, this would be the talk of the town. This girl would be the topic of interest at school when it started back up at the end of summer, with the way teenagers love to gossip.

"What, Mickey? Don't scare me like that; you know I don't like that sort of thing. I thought you were hurt!"

I shook my head in dismay. I was trying to show her our new neighbors and all that I would get was a lecture. "Just look, Auntie," I pleaded.

She looked out of the window with a huff of frustration. She smiled at the glass. "It's going to be nice to have someone your age, and my age, next door. And it's also nice to have people who aren't like the status quo. Why don't you go and offer to help them move in?"

I looked at her happily, excited to meet our new neighbors, and happy to see that she knew what I was thinking without having to ask. She did that often, and it made me feel like she could understand me better than most people could.

"Of course. I have to be neighborly, don't I?" I told her with a grin. She motioned me to go on, and I quickly threw on something more presentable and calmly went out the door.

The summer breeze instantly hit my face blowing my hair in front of my eyes. I tried to collect myself, and my hair, as not to seem like a fool to the girl and her father. After a second or two, the wind died down and I saw that the girl was waving at me. I smiled and waved back, hoping to look friendly and approachable. I'm not the best when it comes to meeting new people; I'm usually quite shy. But I needed a friend coming into this school year, and the girl next door seemed to be a perfect start.

I moved to walk towards the girl, and she did the same to me. We met in the middle of the side walk. She smiled again, and introduced herself.

"Hey, I'm Zoe." She put out her hand to shake, and that surprised me. I wouldn't expect her to be the formal type, but I took it so I wouldn't look rude or ill-mannered.

"Mickey," I replied, shaking her hand and pulling away.

"So, you're our new neighbor?" she asked me, more of a statement than a question. "Yeah, I live here with my Aunt Aggie. Is that your dad?" I asked, referring to Mr. Perfect, who had already taken off his blazer and was opening the moving truck.

"Yeah, he's my dad. I know, I would never guess either." I laughed, and so did she. I could feel the initial awkwardness of a first meeting melting away with every word. She was funny and lighthearted, what I'd always hoped for in a friend.

Maybe this "meeting-new-people" thing isn't as bad as I thought.

"So, do you need any help moving in or anything?" I asked, hoping not to sound eager or creepy.

She smiled and looked over to the truck. Her dad was struggling to bring out a couch on his own, huffing and puffing like it weighed as much as the truck itself. He looked like he was about to pull something. Zoe laughed and looked back at me.

"Yeah, thanks. I think we should go now before my dad hurts himself."

She then turned around and ran over to her dad screaming "Dad, wait for us, don't break your foot!" leaving me to follow her. I laughed and followed her over to her dad, introducing myself and grabbing hold of one part of the couch.

I think I like my new neighbors.