NEIGHBORS

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"Breed me, Daddy, breed me!" The girl moans as the bed continued to hit the wall.

Amyra slams her pillow over her face allowing her screams to be suppressed. What mortal man can go from morning to night? Jack must be on some kind of drugs to have sex this much for this long.

The girl lets out another banshee scream and Amyra wails out with her as she threw a tantrum in her bed. This is just ridiculous. As tears of frustration slips out of her eyes, Amyra kicks off her duvet before stomping out of bed.

Hopefully some warm milk will help her consciousness relax into a slumber. If not, the next step is investing in sleeping pills. Or murdering Jack and his belles.

Drying her face, Amyra moped over to the refrigerator and pulled out the jug of milk. Turning on a stove eye, she placed a pot on top to begin the process. It seems after last week, Jack urges have increased.

Stretching, Amyra allowed her bones to pop when the sudden sound of movement caused her to immediately drop to the floor. Slapping her hand over her mouth. Trying to calm her fluttering heart as she crawled to the kitchen light and flicked it on.

Peeking her head up, Amyra saw that the living room was empty.

"Huh?" She gasps.

Standing to her feet, Amyra searches around her home to source the sound when a glimpse of white caught her eye and she saw another letter was delivered to her door. She groans, this has to be some form of prank, possibly from Ronnie since Amyra wouldn't let him come over. It's not her fault that he was an annoying pervert.

Snatching the letter from the door, Amyra simply tossed it next to the others on the coffee table. She'll burn them when she has the time. Or maybe she should read them, it may inform her on who is disturbing her peace.

It could be Tristan. Amyra's immediately shakes her head to get the thought of him out of her head. It's impossible he find her here anyway. Stepping back to pot on the stove, Amyra quickly pours the hot contents into her mug before switching off the stove eye.

The sweet serenity of sleep was just moments away. Banging on the door caused Amyra to jump with fright and lose grip on her mug. The shattered glass spread far and Amyra slumped with tears in her eyes.

Can nothing go right for her?

Sniffing, Amyra bites her bottom lip to keep from sobbing as she got to her knees to pick up the pieces of glass. Her body leaned over as she did her best to pile the glass in her hand without touching the piping milk.

"Everything okay in there Amyra?" Jack asks through the door.

Amyra felt her tolerance slip away as more tears painted her cheeks. She wanted to be left alone. She needed for Jack to leave her alone.

"Amyra, I know you're up, the light is on and I heard something drop. I just want to make sure you're okay."

In frustration, Amyra screams and slams the pieces of glass on the floor. Stomping over to the door, she swings it open to allow Jack to see her distress. His gasp was followed by an immediate hug. Amyra seized up at the unwanted touch, but kept her mouth tightly shut.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" Jack asks.

"I'm having a rough night," Amyra whispers, "I broke my favorite mug."

Jack peered his head inside and the spiteful seed in Amyra wanted to grab Jack and slam his face on the broken glass in the kitchen. Show him how he is shredding the seams of what was supposed to be her new perfect world.