There is something in me that resists Lyle, especially when he gets too close. My heart pumps blood like there is no tomorrow and the rest of my body simply freezes up. My brain stops processing the easiest of things. My throat dries up like when I have a cold. A mere glimpse of those lush midnight black locks of hair is enough to make me go into a Lyle-induced rigor mortis. It has always been like this, which is why I go to such lengths to keep a distance between me and Lyle.
Right now it felt like my skin was burning as Lyle's fingers touched my jacket.
"..L-Lyle…stop…," I pleaded weakly. Have I mentioned how much I loathe him?
He ignored me in his usual fashion. "Right, so your phone is in here," Lyle said as he plunged a hand into the pocket and dug it out. He then waved it at me with a slight smirk, rubbing in the fact that he procured it.
At that moment the door opened wide to reveal a man with messy dark hair and wearing a carelessly buttoned collared shirt. His glasses were slightly uneven as were the teeth in his uneven smile. His imperfections made him more approachable and pleasant. To others he would have looked very different from his spotty fifteen-year-old self, but to me he seemed the same as ever. The older brother I always wished I had.
"Why d'you call me if you two were busy?" he asked, eying the handcuffs, "You lovebirds and your weird toys…" he muttered.
"What? No we're here for your opinion on something," clarified Lyle stowing away my phone before I could protest.
"Steven!" I called out happily as though the last few seconds had never happened.
"Lea!" he called back, "You look even more mature and elegant close up!" I gave a shy giggle.
"Yes, well. We're stuck. Got any bright ideas?" Lyle broke up the conversation and pointed at the cuffs.
Steven shifted his glasses on his nose and pursed his lips. "Hmm… this is certainly a predicament. In music we'd call this dissonance. "
Lyle raised an eyebrow, but I nodded sagely. To this day I am not sure what I was nodding at, but that's life.
The atmosphere went quiet for a minute as Steven began to accumulate ideas. Eventually his eyes lit up like fireworks and he looked at the two of us eagerly. I anticipated his answer like a child at Halloween.
"There's a hole here…I think a key might fit! Have you tried?" he asked in an excited voice. He looked at us expectantly.
Lyle stared, unimpressed. "They call you a prodigy? Lea let's get out of here, I told you he'd be nothing but a hindrance." I had to agree that the advice had been as useful as damp socks.
"No don't leave!" insisted Steven, "What will I do for the rest of the time my pot noodles are in the microwave? Besides, I have another idea," he added mysteriously.
"Come on Lyle, Steve's only trying to help!"
"Fine. What is it?"
"Two words, little brother. Laser cutter. And with that, I must take leave of your sweet company," Steve retired into his domain shutting the door as the microwave went 'ting!' I found it enormously cool that he had a microwave in his room. Beats those kids with TVs and computers and Xbox 360s and what-nots.
"…Why didn't I think of that? Sometimes my brother is a genius," conceded Lyle, "Alright Lea, next stop is the basement."
"Great! We'll finally get these off!"
I had vaguely heard the words 'laser cutter'. Lasers were quite nasty as they could potentially burn your eyes out. Cutters were not any better - I kept getting images of medieval torture tools from history textbooks. But together they could only be harmless. It's the double negatives rule. I comforted myself that at least things couldn't get worse.
"Oh damn. I forgot about the basement keys," said Lyle, stopping in his steps.
"What's this?" I queried. I seemed to be having terrible fortune with keys today. I cursed them to oblivion. Let them be replaced by code locks and voice recognition.
"My mother has them, and she won't be back until tomorrow morning. You'll have to spend the night," added Lyle. That merciless smile with those perfect teeth nearly always found a way to ruin everything. But not this time. I'd have to shake my brains up for an escape plan - and quick...
Chapter V: Doomed
* * *
So Lyle believed he had me imprisoned in his poisonous grip for the whole night. That I was the delicate princess locked up in a tall tower and that he was the vicious dragon preventing escape and any outside help. He truly believed I would quietly accept this intimidating situation and be a good little submissive girl about it, and that I would continue to be dragged all over the place tied to those idiotic S&M handcuffs.
He was wrong (most likely).
I needed to calmly review the recent proceedings; else I was sure my head would explode (preferably showering Lyle with bits and pieces).
1. Apparently a laser cutter was needed to chop of the links on the cuffs.
2. I had to spend the night because the keys to the laser cutter were with Mrs Parker who wasn't due to return until tomorrow morning.
3. Lyle still had my phone.
4. My wrists are too big to fit in the crack which housed the bloody cuff key, but they are small enough to perhaps slip out on their own with the help of some hand cream…
On a very unrelated note, I was at my first sleepover in ages! It was true that I couldn't talk about hot guys and my favourite TV shows to my host and companion, but I wouldn't let that ruin it for me – especially since I had uncovered an excellent and fool proof plan to escape. It also later occurred to me that Lyle being the rich brat that he was owned many luxurious beds. When I used to come up here as a child Lyle and I would take afternoon naps in one of the guest rooms. I still remember the soft texture of that bed with its feathery, squashy pillows that would make us feel sleepy almost instantly. On rainy days I would cuddle up with the rich velvet-lined blankets that Lyle and I would silently squabble over. And all the while in the distant background Steven would play a deep, gentle lullaby on his cello. Those were the few precious, peaceful hours I spent with my otherwise tumultuous and malicious neighbour.
Lyle gave another short tug, brutally awakening me from my reverie.
"I know you are just as annoyed about this as I am," he started. This was something I highly doubted. That impertinent smile he was trying to hide belied everything he said. "But we should probably brush our teeth and stuff."
A quick glance at the clock in Lyle's room revealed that it was quite late. What was my poor mother thinking right now? An arrow went through my heart when I thought about how lonely she must be feeling.
"Lyle…give me my mobile. I need to call my mother," I said firmly.
He looked at me with a hurtful expression that was quite rare. I wished I could take a photo of those artistically shaped eyes tinged with hurt, and then make a collage out of it. Wow, who exactly was the sadist here again…?
"Alright, Lea. I wasn't stealing it or anything," he defended, "It's in my back pocket." He gave a quick nod.
"O-ok," I said hesitantly. I took a huge breath before I carefully took it out, avoiding any contact with his jeans. It was slightly unnerving to realise I was becoming accustomed to the cuffs and its associated annoyances, main one being my physical closeness to Lyle. I quickly dialed my mother's number, ignoring the jingling sound the cuffs made every time I moved.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mum! Sorry I didn't call before, I'm a bit…held up at Lyle's."
"I thought so, Lea dear. Don't worry about me, I'm just watching soap reruns with a huge tub of ice-cream and listening to cheesy romantic songs from the 60s."
"Oh Mum! I'm so sorry! I want to come back, I really do…"
"Lea, it's fine take your time, I was joking – I've actually gone out to dinner with some mates from the office! You said you're at Lyle's?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"That's good! You ought to re-strengthen your ties with him. He can really help you out in the future. You'll thank me for it!"
"Help me? How?" I puzzled. He normally helped himself at my
expense. She seemed not to hear me as someone in the background laughed raucously.
"And besides, he's a really good catch! Get your claws into him, and strike down any other girls in your path. Anyway, see you tomorrow – I'll be back late tonight."
"Mum! No! Wait!" It was too late. What on Earth did she mean by all that stuff about Lyle?
I pocketed my phone, silently crossing out item 3 on my list.
Lyle looked at me curiously. "What did your mother say? Tell me," he demanded. He was using his characteristic hypnotic voice that made it so difficult for me to disobey him.
"Nothing…much," I replied, avoiding eye contact at all costs, "She said we should meet each other more often."
"Well, we are friends after all. Anyway, what do you propose we do now? I'm giving you a completely free choice," he said, taking a seat close next to me. I could have hugged him, but that would have been going too far. Let's say I could have shaken his hand.
"We should sleep. Tomorrow is a school day after all," I proposed. I needed Lyle either unconscious or in dreamland in order to implement my awesome escape and revenge plan.
Lyle looked at me with an empty face that accentuated his statue-like features, "Sleep?" he echoed.
I nodded. If my plan of slipping my hand out with cream went successfully he would be very angry in the morning especially as I would not be around to tease…
"Sleep?" He repeated, "How can we sleep with the cuffs on? We'd have to share the same bed. Use your brain Lea."
Ironically, my brain froze at that idea (the bed-sharing, not the brain-using). Unfortunately the only way to escape was to ensure that Lyle was sound asleep. So I said what I had to.
"Why not? Remember when we were young and cute, we'd share the same bed for our afternoon naps? Let's use that bed, it is big enough to fit the both of us." In my memory that bed was so huge I often felt it deserved its own post code.
Lyle categorically refused.
"There is no way under any possible circumstances that I would share a bed with you. Not even if we were married."
There is only so much insulting a girl can take. After that she transforms into a vituperative vixen regardless of whether she is talking to Lyle. I readied myself for the attack.
"If my memory doesn't fail me – and it rarely does – you used to cuddle up next to me when it was cold outside. I had never seen you more…vulnerable," I retorted. Attacking his dominance and strength was probably the worst offence I could have given.
"…That was only because you had enough body fat to keep two people warm."
"What?!" I was a healthy child! So, I ate Cadbury's cream eggs every day – but a child needs a balanced diet.
"Anyway, we are not sleeping at all tonight."
"What?!?!" Let me stress that I had not just thought of something perverted.
"That's the way it is if the only other choice is us sharing a bed. We are going to play Monopoly."
"WHAT!?!?!?!?!?!?!"
"Because everyone knows it's the only game without an end. It will keep us busy all night," he assured me. So much for my free choice, I thought to myself. Anyway, how can you play monopoly with only two people? And why was that my primary concern?
"If we are going to stay up all night why can't we at least play on your PS3? Monopoly doesn't make sense with two people," I pleaded in a whiny voice.
"Monopoly is cool. Besides, you suck at video games, it wouldn't be a challenge at all," Lyle insisted.
And that was when I had a brain flash.
"I agree to this…on the condition that we play on the very bed we used to sleep on as kids. If not I refuse to get up from here and that means you can't either," I said rather smugly. That special bed felt like sleeping on a cloud. Cloud 9 to be exact. And perhaps – just perhaps - it would induce Lyle into a deep slumber, ensuring my quick and successful get away.
Truth is, I was expecting Lyle to retort with something that would inevitably dash my hopes as usual, but he slowly agreed. Perhaps Lyle really was a person.
"It think it's absolutely adorable when you pretend to take charge. Why the bed, though?" he demanded curiously.
"Oh, just because! For memories sake!" I hastily replied, hoping he couldn't see through my plan, but who can tell with those x-ray eyes and that built-in lie-radar? This was Lyle we were talking about after all.
"So you don't hate me, really?" he continued while yanking me to the room with a Monopoly box tucked under his arm.
"No, no don't worry, I still do!"
That was the wrong answer.
"I mean, I mean, it's the opposite! I LOVE you!"
That was even more wrong. Especially when he turned back and stared at me like I was an escaped clown from a nearby circus.
"You do…?" he replied incredulously, monotonously, yet quietly (which may sound impossible but this was Lyle after all).
"I mean, I actually meant that the, you know, well, HEY LOOK A WINDOW!" I said to distract him, pointing in a random direction. For a moment he did look but that was only out of shock. Normally at this instant the 'distracter' runs for her life, but here I miscalculated. I thought it was a pretty good diversion, but apparently it wasn't as the furious look on Lyle's face plainly told me. In hindsight I guess that was mainly because:
1. There was no window where I pointed.
2. There was no window anywhere in that region.
3. I couldn't exactly flee after that without dragging Lyle behind me, so I ended up looking really stupid in my half-running away pose.
Thankfully, just as Lyle was about to hurtle a glass vase at me a real distraction made an appearance.
The doorbell rang.
Chapter VI: Crowded
* * *
Just as Lyle was about to chuck a precious looking vase at me, the doorbell rang. It rang persistently and stronger. It sounded like the person outside was trying to communicate with us in Morse code. I looked at Lyle inquiringly. He was frowning while biting his lower lip, carefully returning the vase to its original place.
"That can't be Mother; she's not back until tomorrow. And it's definitely not father, he hasn't come home in five years…" Lyle pondered out loud. Hearing that felt like sharp knives piercing right through the deepest chambers of my heart. Fathers and their children should never be separated. Mine died when I was twelve, but even today I feel frustrated and grieved when I think of him. Sometimes I get so angry I feel like killing him myself – only he's already buried. I've always felt grateful that my mother is here to prevent me from going utterly insane.
…Could his missing father be the reason Lyle is so messed up? The idea seemed to make sense in many ways. Still, there was one immense flaw in my awesome psychological diagnosis.
Lyle was messed up even before his dad left.
So much for that theory.
"STEVEN would you get the door?" Lyle bellowed so his voice would make its way to the East Tower. I didn't hear a reply but a few seconds later Lyle received a text on his mobile:
'Cant lil bro. Im sleeping zzzzz'
"That's stupid. He is such a liar, what's he doing then, sleep-texting? Can't anyone tell the truth around here?" Lyle asked acerbically. Once again I was amazed at Lyle's ability to figure out when someone was being mendacious.
The doorbell continued ringing, with something like urgency. Clearly whoever was at the door needed the toilet.
"Let's just open it," I suggested, "I'll walk behind you so they don't see the handcuffs."
Lyle had an amused look on his face, which I did not understand. "Sounds good, let's go. Or else whoever it is won't shut up," he said as we moved, "Handcuffs are getting extremely bothersome. My revised favourites list goes: ropes, knives, then cuffs."
"Really?" I replied, "Mine goes: Shovels, apple pie, then Sailor Moon." Lyle decided to ignore my opinion.
Walking down stairs with handcuffs was actually quite some challenge. They should replace the three-legged race with this. Lyle's pace was so fast I ended
up flying down, which was quite fun in itself. Until he stopped and I banged straight into his back. He didn't bother to reprimand me.
He unlocked and opened the door. The October chill made its way inside making me shiver. I edged a little closer to Lyle's back. It felt so warm… well that was understandable seeing as he had obviously come straight from hell.
The silhouettes at the door belonged to two girls. I feared for them slightly remembering my own encounter with Lyle in his shed from the day before. Then I reassured myself that Lyle couldn't do much torturing while handcuffed. Granted, it was not the best of consolations, but hey - I was quite desperate.
"Hello, Twat! It's me, Lillian," said one of the girls at the door. I took a peek from behind Lyle's back. I hadn't expected to see her before the 'plan' on Halloween Fete, but there she was.
The first thing I noticed about her was how petite a figure she had. Her dark hair matched her golden skin which was made even brighter with diamond piercings decorating her ears and nose. One of her arms was in a sling, presumably as a by-product of Lyle's violent act. Her hands were small and smooth.
Small and smooth…that could be useful. I mentally stored that information in a shelf in my brain.
The other girl with Lillian wore a hat that resembled Jack Sparrow's. Her gushing red hair was impossible to miss, even in the pitch black of the night. Honestly it seemed like all ginger heads had glow-in-the-dark hair.
"Daya!" I exclaimed, once again forgetting I had restricted movement.
"Lea? What are you doing here?" she asked me, full of surprise.
"That's my question. I didn't know you knew Lillian!" I asked. This situation sure was getting more and more muddled by the second.
"Why don't you guys come in?" I continued in a welcoming tone. Perhaps I could persuade Lillian to retrieve the handcuff keys with her tiny, delicate princess hands.
"That's really funny, Lea. Thanks for the hospitality," added Daya making a 'victory' sign with her fingers.
Through all this Lyle remained surprisingly quiet. I felt a momentary pain in my wrist, and when I looked down I saw Lyle squeezing it like a squidgy toy (those really cheap things with sticker eyes and filled with flour that street vendors sell in Paris). From that motion I could tell he was not pleased with my recent actions. I guess I didn't fully have the authority to invite people into other people's houses (or castles for that matter). Still, for some reason some perverse masochist in me persuaded me to continue.
Nightmare with the Neighbour Page 3