Nightmare with the Neighbour

by Martha Greenwood

  NIGHTMARE WITH THE NEIGHBOUR

  Martha Greenwood

  PUBMOB Company

  Paris ,France

  Hanoi Vietnam

  Text copyright © 2013 by Martha Greenwood

  All rights reserved.

  PUBMOB Company

  2402 CT2 Ngo Thi Nham, Ha Dong, Hanoi, Vietnam.

  Visit our Web site at www. PUBMOB.com

  First Edition: July 2013

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN-13: 978-1490950228

  ISBN-10: 1490950222

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter I: Blindfolded

  Chapter II: Handcuffed

  Chapter III: Captive

  Chapter IV: Prisoner

  Chapter V: Doomed

  Chapter VI: Crowded

  Chapter VII: Released

  Chapter VIII: Unsolved

  Chapter IX: Reversed

  Chapter X: Suppressed

  Chapter XI: Twisted

  Chapter XII: Contrite

  Chapter XIII: Submissive

  Chapter XIV: Exchanged

  Chapter XV: Resolute

  Chapter XVI: Doubt

  Chapter XVII: Truth

  Chapter XVIII: Unexpected

  Chapter XIX: Intimate

  Chapter XX: Blacked Out

  CHAPTER XXI: CONCEALED

  Chapter I: Blindfolded

  * * *

  I found myself in front of my neighbours' house, with a feeling akin to nervousness.

  I needed to borrow a shovel from the Parkers'.

  Okay, that doesn't sound as bad now as it did then. I hardly have a phobia of shovels – in fact I'm something of a gardening freak. Just ask the lazily sprawling pumpkins in my backyard. But I do have a phobia of the Parkers.

  The Parkers' are our neighbours from the house opposite. Sorry, the castle opposite. I've always wondered why our cute, suburban neighbourhood had a castle in the middle of it, complete with huge grounds and surrounding woods. Their castle is like something from a cheesy Halloween film. It scared me to walk under those weeping branches. Still, I remember coming here quite often as I used to be pretty chummy with their kid Lyle. If you can call being bullied friendship. Our make-believe 'games' are still vivid in my head (I can almost smell the salted ocean when I think about 'Walk-the-Plank'. I did the walking). And then five years ago – bam – Lyle's dad walks out on the family. No reason stated.

  I haven't been bullied by Lyle since then.

  So you can understand why I was feeling a little apprehensive about the shovel. I mean, I had hardly even seenhim these past five years. It does sound pretty fishy considering we're neighbours and all, but if you ask me Lyle is probably nocturnal. Creature of the night and all that. As my finger moved to the doorbell I was dreading that Lyle would open the door.

  Please be Mrs Parker, or Steven I desperately thought to myself, or even the ghost of a murdered guest! Still, what was the worst a deranged bully could do? The door slowly swung open after what seemed to be three eternities.

  "Steven?" I hesitated. Steven was Lyle's older brother, a bit of a weirdo in his own unique way.

  The serious man at the door simply stared on. That was pretty unnerving. He's probably taken with my overflowing charm, I tried to convince myself.

  I concluded that he definitely wasn't Steven. Steven smiled more, and he was not as angry or surly looking.

  "Lyle Parker?" I tried again, feeling stupider as the seconds passed. I then noticed how much taller Lyle had grown. He made me feel smaller than a bean sprout. He had lost his immature, childish looks. Unfortunately they had been replaced with impassive ruthlessness. He seems awfully like a creature from the netherworld when I describe him. You would never believe that he had been selected as Sparrowick's Hottest Teenager!. I had no idea who the judge was, but whoever it was needed to be tested for astigmatism.

  "Hey!," I started sunnily, "It's been a while, eh?" Five years could pass off as a 'while', I convinced myself. He went on staring at me with a slight frown. I did not want to broach on the subject of his father. For the same reason you do not poke a python between the eyes (unless you're Mowgli I guess).

  "Umm...Remember me? I'm Lea Dupont from the house opposite. We used to...play together when we were kids," I continued when he remained silent. The calm before a typhoon colliding with a hurricane I'm sure.

  "You are a girl," Lyle finally said. Well I couldn't deny that.

  "Yes...Could I borrow something? All the other neighbours are on holiday and..."

  "I could use you."

  Ok...what? Use me for one of his surely illegal experiments? Use me to do his Maths homework? The possibilities were endless...and none of them were doing any good to my heartbeat.

  All in all though, there were worse ways of greeting an old friend. He could have just dragged me in and peeled my skin off. Actually, Lyle was being quite affable! Maybe my terrible memories of him were a tad exaggerated.

  "Could I borrow a shovel please? I need it for our vegetable patch."

  "Get it yourself. It's in the shed."

  I walked in and through into the garden. Nothing much had changed in here since five years ago. It still felt like the garden had been used in a recording of The Addams Family. If anything it had gotten even more unruly ever since Lyle's father left. I guess Mrs Parker felt less inclined to keep it tidy after her husband mysteriously left the family. I felt a slight urge to tidy it up. It looked like a haven for wildlife, especially for the legendary type, of which 'Acromantula' sprang to mind.

  Why was he following me? He crept into the shed after me…and then closed the door.

  "Lyle? Don't do that, it's dark and I can't see…"

  Swiftly he was behind and tying something over my eyes. A blindfold? Then he pushed me violently onto a rickety chair. Just when I thought he had changed his jerk-like ways! I was so overwhelmed I could not even protest. He started binding me with what felt like thick ropes. I did not like it. They were itchy and rubbed harshly against my skin.

  I read somewhere that most rapes are committed by people you know.

  "Lyle, I only wanted a shovel - "

  I tried to move my face away, but Lyle's nails started to dig into it. I squirmed against the rope but that bruised me more. Not being able to see what Lyle was doing made me feel even more vulnerable.

  "So this is what a girl feels like. Well, if I'm not mature enough for Lillian, I can always use you Lea. We used to be such good friends after all! Don't you agree?" Lyle said in his characteristic hypnotic voice. It had become much deeper though, enhancing the mysticism.

  Use me eh? And how could I not agree? I learnt the hard way that saying 'no' to a psychopath is not good for one's health. My eyes widened under the blindfold.

  I felt him approach me again, alarm bells went off in my head. The ropes were very tight. Loose splinters from the chair were digging into my bare skin. He began to run a hand along my body, and I flinched. He did it ever so softly and slowly, in a way I would not have thought Lyle capable of. I could not handle it any more. Was I really the same doormat as I had been all those years ago? No way! I was now a doormat who could stand up for itself! Hooray for doormats, without which one would enter the house with filthy foot prints! Hooray for doormats, without which there would be no place to store the spare house key!

  "Lyle you ass, stop it! What is wrong with you, you jerk?!" I hurled a few more insults at him.

  The shed door banged open. Lyle and I momentarily froze.

  "Just
what do you kids think you're doing?!" demanded a masculine voice. Steven! I sighed with relief. He'll untie me!

  "Honestly, why is the one tied up doing the insulting? If you are going to engage in S&M, do it properly! Jeez…" Steven continued. I heard him rummage for something, and then he left. Leaving me a victim once again…was today 'Dash-Lea's-Hope Day' or something?

  "What is S&M?" I asked hesitantly.

  Lyle ignored my naive question with his supercilious attitude.

  "Please untie me? I'll do anything!" I begged my captor, returning to the more pressing issue

  "Not a chance! You are my girl. I need to gain more experience for Lillian. And girls in general."

  "This is not an RPG, Lyle"

  Lyle looked thoughtful (at least, I think he did. Hard to tell with a blindfold on). "Maybe you could help. Alright, I'll untie you."

  As he cut the ropes around my chest, feet and wrists, I felt free.Even exhilarated. I was finally released from this nightmare with Lyle. As he took the blindfold off with his calloused fingers, he whispered into my ear, "That was fun. Rope is a great invention..."

  "I'm free!" I proclaimed as I made my way to the shed door, ignoring his comment. Escape was at the top of my agenda believe it or not.

  "Not so fast Lea."

  I sank as I felt his familiar iron grip on my wrist. He threw me onto that rickety old chair again. I massaged my wrist. Yep. I would have a total of seven bruises tomorrow morning. Lyle crouched down beside me. His hair was still that dark, midnight colour. It matched the general atmosphere of the Parkers' house.

  "Lea, you are the only one who can do this," he looked at me with imploring eyes.

  "Does this have something to do with 'Lillian'?" I had never met her in my life, but she was probably my best friend. So monsters do fall in love. I could not help smiling smugly to myself.

  He looked away, refusing to answer. Then he pointed a kitchen knife at me as if threatening me to tell anyone. I wondered why he was carrying something that dangerous when I remembered - This was Lylewe were talking about.

  "Can I have the shovel first please?" I asked innocently.

  Lyle passed it to me and I struck him on the head with it.

  Chapter II: Handcuffed

  * * *

  I bolted out of that creepy haunted house with the creepy shed. That's what you do when you play Whack-A-Mole with a crazed teenager's head and a spade.

  This proved a little harder than I had intended because of the bulky, heavy shovel though. Not forgetting the gazillion scratches and inchoate bruises. I did not turn back to see Lyle's expression, even though the devil in me wanted to. Would he be surprised? Angry? Maybe he was laughing. Maybe it was all three – and that I really wanted to see.

  I changed into my Sailor Moon pyjamas that night and sat on my clean bed. I had gingerly applied some antiseptic to the worst affected parts of my skin. When I caught my reflection in my mirror, I found myself looking at a pitiful B-Horror movie monster, despite my bright pink pyjamas. Mum would surely ask well-intentioned questions tomorrow. I could not tell her this happened because she sent me to the Parkers. Perhaps you are wondering if my father cared or not. The short answer to that would sadly be no. The less short answer is: he can't because he's dead.

  Things were pretty rosy when he was alive. He was half the reason I had the courage to put up with Lyle. But for the past five years he's been the crappiest father one could hope to have, partially because he's stuck underground. They should rename this street from 'Sunshine Lane' to 'Got-a-Dad?-Well-you-don't-anymore' lane.

  I mean, you might think that Lyle and I could have mutual agreement, beneath my fear and rancour, missing fathers being common to us both. But if you saw the sore blue spots on my skin, you would think differently.

  I was never entering the Parkers' Lair again. I would keep the (literally) bloody shovel here at the Dupont residence for the rest of my life. It was a huge mistake to go back there after five relatively peaceful years. Yes, I would remain here, nice and cuddly with my even cuddlier mum.

  So someone explain why this happened the next day.

  The doorbell rang early next morning. I mistook it for my alarm clock and tumbled out of bed. Then I 'meh'-ed. I had to get ready for school anyway.

  Mum opened the door. It was probably Billy the Postman. I think he's cute so I ran towards the stairs.

  "My, is that you Lyle? You've grown so tall!" exclaimed my mother.

  What the hell was he doing here? I sank down, cursing my mother's weakness for pretty boys.

  "Thank you Mrs Dupont. I would never have thought that it had been five years since I last saw you – you look just the same," he replied courteously.

  Eeew. That genteel politeness again. It completely belied the fact that he was actually a sadistic, vicious monster. Sorry – that he was a creature sadistic, vicious monsters ran away from.

  I heard my mother swoon at the insincere compliment, and a part of me died.

  "Why, I'm sure that's not true, Lyle. But it has been a while – your friend Lea focuses hard on school work, especially since her father passed away. You two used to be very chummy," my mother said with a smile.

  "We were. I always found it a poor co-incidence that your husband died at the same time my father disappeared," continued Lyle. It surprised me that Lyle could talk about his father's vanishing with such mental ease.

  Mum seemed a little distrait, as though thinking of something that happened many years ago (or was she thinking of the apple pie in the oven?). From my hiding place I saw her extend an arm towards Lyle. And what happened next really made my blood boil and freeze all at once.

  "You should come in, Lyle. I'll call Lea, she's just getting ready for school," said Mum.

  Noooooooooo I thought silently. I loathed seeing that face again…or hearing that deep voice…

  "That's alright, Mrs Dupont. I have to get going to school too. Could you call Lea down for a second though, if she is not busy?"

  I sunk to the ground again, and would have even lower if it had been possible. Oh well, best get this done with. He just probably wanted the shovel back. I put on a bright orange sweater to ward off the October chill. Even as a child, meeting Lyle felt the same as it did now. Like forcing Dr. Pepper down one's throat. Nothing had changed.

  "Hi, Lyle," I said unenthusiastically as my mother retired hastily to the kitchen. I hoped the apple pie was not burning.

  "Lea…you left quite suddenly yesterday. We were in the middle of a conversation," Lyle said in his harsh tone.

  "Really?" I asked, looking very intently at the wall next to me. I stole a quick glance at his face. Ehehehe. His thick Midnight black hair failed miserably at concealing the contusion on his forehead. I relaxed a little. Lyle then looked like he was inspecting me.

  "…You have grown, Lea. Not as obedient as you used to be. That will change soon though."

  Ugh. He used the domineering tone. The tone I always lost to.

  "Oh. Well, look Lyle, I'll get the shovel from the back garden. It was really useful, the pumpkins are very happy in their new place," I said hastily.

  "Lillian," he said, ignoring my sentence completely.

  "No, my name is Lea."

  "You are supposed to help me with Lillian. Come to the West Tower after school." And with that, he turned around and left, offering no chance for me to answer.

  The West Tower was the name given to one of the turrets at the Parkers' castle. It was Lyle's domain. That place gave me the heebie-jeebies, especially because I have a bad memory connected to it. Still, the man of my nightmares had gone, so I heaved a sigh that was worth about a thousand. At least he didn't comment on the Sailor Moon pyjamas, I reflected, and then bloody hell that pie smells good!

  At school everyone cooed over my splinter scratches and bruises. Maybe I should do this more often…being the centre of attention once in a while is not so bad!

  "Lea, what did you do to yourself?" asked Daya, my ginger headed best f
riend who was wearing a rather intriguing hat that morning. It housed a bunch of plastic fruits. To my surprise, she plucked an apple from it and offered it to me. I am not in the habit of eating plastic fruit, but I accepted it. Hm. It even smelled like a real. Hell, I was tremendously hungry for my mother's apple pie…

  "What's up with the hat Daya? And why are you giving my pieces of it?"

  "Oh, Halloween is next week."

  "Yay. Does it take you 168 hours to get ready then?" I rolled my eyes.

  "Silly Lea! I'm trying out different things so I can get the perfect costume for Sparrowick's Halloween Fete."

  Sparrowick – the town I live in – hosts a Halloween fair annually. It's pretty fun, if it does not degenerate into debauchery before 12 am. Each year there is a competition for 'Best costume' with mind-boggling cash prizes to be won, so I assumed this was what Daya's intention was. I nodded while juggling the apple. It was pretty damn heavy for something plastic…

  "So what happened? You look like a lion and a leopard played tug-o-war with your body," Daya pressed, "And then a vulture picked at your carcass," she added as an afterthought.

  "It's not that bad," I said in my Wounded Soldier voice, "My neighbour did this."

  "Your neighbour's cat?"

  "No, my actual neighbour. Heard of Lyle Parker? He goes to Sparrow Park School."

  Hearing this, Daya slowly cracked up. She threw her head back in her good humour and all the fruits from her hat came rattling out. Some went splat and other wentsquish and they all made a terrible mess on the ground. I frowned at the waste of good food – at the very least you could have made some excellent compost out of it.

  Daya slowly recovered from her paroxysm of laughter, panting out, "Lyle Parker? The Lyle Parker? The gentleman of Sparrowick and Sparrowick's Hottest Teenager? Your jokes are really funny, Lea!" she said.

  Are we talking about the same person? I briefly thought to myself. Unfortunately, reason dictated we were. It seemed to me that Lyle had a completely different image publicly than what he showed me. That was when I realised there was no point in revealing his true character, as nobody would believe me, and only my reputation would be risked. Had I been emo I would have written depressing poetry about how misunderstood I felt.