My Neighbor

Can You Keep a Secret?

Bodies. There were dead bodies everywhere. Not chopped up ones from a murder, ones in special tubes to preserve them. Two of them, I recognized. They were Dustin's parents.

"Oh.. my... gosh..." I held a hand over my mouth.

No, don't freak out now. I have to find a phone. I walk through the door that leads to the house. This house is nice. If only it didn't belong to a mad scientist serial killer. I search aimlessly around the house, but catch no sight of a phone. By the time I reach the kitchen, my head is whirling. I collapse onto the floor.

As I try to pull myself up, I hear the garage door being opened. I take my pocket knife out, but I'm so drowsy I accidentally cut my hand. I  decide to hide the weapon in my bra. He would check my pockets, but hopefully not my bra. If he doesn't kill me, I will get out. I drag myself to the nearest door, a closet. I use all my strength to get in and close it. Everything is fuzzy when I hear footsteps in the kitchen.

"What the fuck? Is this blood?" I hear Dustin ask himself. I forgot about the cut. Shit. I look at my hand and see that it is still bleeding pretty bad. Maybe I'll die before he kills me. The closet opens, and I look up at Dustin. I guess not I thought to myself.

Dustin looks a little different then last time. He's gotten skinner, and looks tired. He still has his same green-gray eyes that always seem distant. Blonde hair, spiked up with gel like always. He's actually quite attractive.

Dustin looks at me for a moment, bewildered, but the reaches toward me and grabs my hand to pull me up. Instead I just slump forward. "Get up." he demanded.

"I-I can't. My pills..." I mumble.

"What?" he asks, picking me up by my waist and putting me in a chair so we are face to face.

"I took, my, my pills when I was, seeing things. They, they knock me out." I say, falling forward again and into his arms.

"Woah!" he shouts while catching me. "Why the hell did you take them then!?" he asked, almost chuckling.

"I get, paranoid..." I start, "There s-supposed to cure my craziness, but I just pass out. I hate talking them, believe me!" What? Why am I talking to my murderer?

"Pfft, you think that's bad? I had terrible ones. They said it would calm me, but they made me depressed. I would just sit there, trapped in my mind." He looked me in the eyes, "I'm so glad I stopped taking them, why didn't you stop?"

"I-" I'm scarred I'll let the wrong thing slip. "I have p-paranoia, and other disorders. M-my hallucination are bad, and m-my mom made sure that I would t-take them." I reply unsure if this was the correct response.

He starts to laugh. What is with this guy? "My parents made me take them too, but I took care of that." I imagined his parents, forever immortalized and fated to live in his garage.

'I know.' I almost let it slip through my mouth. If he knew I saw everything, he would defiantly kill me. He searches my eyes, confused that I wasn't responding. I need to cover up that pause. Make him believe that I'm clueless.

""I don't t-think I could ever disobey my m-mom..." I say. Please fall for it. Please!

"Yeah, I guess were different like that." he replies scratching his head. Thank goodness!

There was an awkward pause.

"Dustin?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"Hm?" he asks, recovering from his daydreams. I suddenly fell, hitting my head on the tile floor.

"Maya?" he screams. I look at his face and fade away.

Sorry for such short chapters :p Next chapter will be bigger :3