Nightmare with the Neighbour

by Martha Greenwood

  "It's alright Lea!" I said brightly, "I've already planned your next punishment. How dare you offer me such a small piece of delicious pie?" I said directly into her ear. The truth is I hadn't really thought of anything yet, but it was good to lead Lea into thinking that I did. This way I ensured my complete control over her.

  "What makes you think I'll come back to your castle?" she queried, washing the soap on the dish out with water.

  "I just know it. Now that we have re-ignited our deep friendship, you will never find a way of avoiding me," I said softly. I delighted in saying every word, especially as I did believed what I said.

  "…Really?" asked Lea hesitantly.

  "Really," I reassured her.

  "Then re-ignite this!" Lea exclaimed as she heaved the dish out of the sink and soaked me with a tray full of soapy water.

  Before the anger hit me, I briefly thought to myself: What was I expecting anyway? This was Lea we were talking about after all…

  Chapter X: Suppressed

  * * *

  I'm normally a composed sort of girl. Cool, calm and collected are but a few of the adjectives that describe my personality. People might say I'm easy to walk over, but the truth is I'm just docile. In fact, my placidity rivals that of a tall, old oak tree.

  Then why in bloody hell did I just soak my enemy and neighbour with soapy water?

  It's like I have an in-built thermometer. Annoy me a little, and I will smile my troubles away. Annoy me a little more, and I will snap like a cheese cracker. Hence the big soak.

  I took a look a Lyle, and a miniscule percentage of me felt sorry for him. He was wetter than an abandoned sponge left in the rain. And to top it all off he had an expression that was literally smouldering. For once I felt like he deserved to get angry. This incident had been completely my fault, though I hate to admit it.

  "You'd better learn to keep your temper in check," he said in a very, very soft voice. I would like to point out that he was the one who pushed a girl down some stairs after she called him a 'twat'.

  I just wanted to leave this awkward situation behind and run away to Timbuktu, but lack of plane tickets stopped me from implementing this awesome plan. Besides, I couldn't leave Lyle like this. Octobers in Sparrowick are chilly, and I wouldn't want to be the reason Lyle catches pneumonia (wouldn't care if he caught it some other way though).

  "Mum! We'll be there soon!" I shouted to my mother who was in our living room waiting for us, "I'm going to find Lyle a change of clothes!" I continued. Lyle's prisoner-like expression softened a little.

  "What?" replied Mum incredulously. Well, it was a bit of a weird thing to say.

  "Uhhhh, we…kind of had a water-fight…" I ended weakly.

  "Isn't it a little late in the year for those kinds of games? You children…"

  I beckoned Lyle to follow me.

  "…So you lie as well," Lyle decided to start a pleasant conversation, "Let's see now…lies, temper, idiocy, hatred and betrayal," he muttered as we took the stairs to the upper floor. I ignored him. He had a way of making me feel inferior and stupid every time he opened his mouth, but if I blocked them I could overcome them.

  "If you were even a little pretty I could forgive you for your sins and vices," he continued ruthlessly.

  I remained quiet, but in my head I was screaming. I could sense a creepily sadistic smile.

  Just as I was about to make a right into my room, I unconsciously stopped. The reason being -

  "You know, this is the first time I've entered your room."

  The shed incident from a couple of days ago is still quite raw in my mind, so I hesitated a little before entering. I mean, it's like that fable when a rabbit invites a lion over for a nice dinner, and gets eaten instead. If rabbits can feel regret, then I felt like that rabbit. I decided to trust Lyle, since he wasn't a lion, though they do share some common characteristics. It truly amazes me how everyone in Sparrowick thinks Lyle is some sort of hot model, mother and best friend included.

  "Really?" I replied, "I guess we used to play outside more in the past. Now, what can I find for you…?"

  Lyle looked around. "You don't have a decent couch in your room?"

  "I use my bed," I said, avoiding any eye contact with him as I went through my clothes to find something appropriate. It was embarrassing going through my personal stuff in front of him, and besides, he could have been Medusa in disguise.

  Lyle went to my bed and sat on it. He then sneezed, as if on cue. A tiny pang of guilt went through me, and I nearly forgave him for dripping water on my bed.

  "Here, try these," I said, quickly finding some pyjamas that stood any chance of fitting that tall body. I tossed them towards him.

  He began to take his shirt off when he must have seen my red, burning face.

  "Leave," he said, pointing at the door in a condescending manner.

  Yeah right. First, he talks to me like I'm trash while being so incredibly polite to the rest of the world. And second, this is my room. He should be the one to 'leave'. I told him so.

  "Fine, suit yourself," he said as he started unzipping his jeans right there. I nearly screamed out loud and turned my back to him. I could hear a silent snicker. I don't know about you, but I'm certainly not familiar with men undressing in my room. And to make it worse, some demon inside me really wanted to turn around and take a peek. What did a guy look like without his shirt on? Or even, what did Lylelook like? Did he have abs, or a black hole instead? Curiosity itched at me like a mosquito bite. This whole turmoil of contradicting feelings was clearly Lyle's fault. If only he'd left the room instead of being so bloody stubborn.

  Truth is we were both as stubborn as each other.

  I honestly believed that I was now a mature, capable seventeen-year-old, someone who had left behind these petty worries and arguments. I thought I was a daughter my father would surely be proud of. But Lyle seemed to have a special ability that made me regress into childhood.

  "Ok, I'm done, you can turn around Lea."

  My depressing thoughts about my Self and my ineptitude towards everything in the world were immediately dispelled when I saw Lyle.

  I had accidently given him my Sailor Moon pyjamas.

  "You are so paying for this Lea. I'll make sure you scream and cry in regret," he snarled angrily into my ear from behind as we made our way to the living room. I remained quiet, but my brain was full to the brim with laughter.

  "Ah, here you are Lyle! Sit down and have a chat. Those pyjamas suit you well," my mother said giving a benign smile. That's the remarkable thing about my mother. She doesn't ask awkward questions, and she intuitively understands what people are feeling.

  "Thank you, Mrs Dupont. And thank you for the apple pie. It was absolutely scrumptious, just like I remember it to be," Lyle said in that disgustingly suave voice, taking a seat next to me.

  "You really ought to have visited more. I mean to say, what happened five years ago stays there. I have been in contact with your mother – we are both widows in essence – but the one that needed the company more wasyou, dear."

  Oh now this was getting interesting. I had always had suspicions about the past events involving my father, but since we never openly discussed it in our house I always kept them to one side. And this just reinforced my belief that the Parkers had something to do with it. I myself can't clearly remember what exactly happened…

  "…Really, Mrs Dupont? I can't seem to recall those events, however…"

  Looks like I wasn't the only one with memory issues. I was completelytaken aback by this information and new side of Lyle. If he couldn't remember anything, does that mean he went through some kind of trauma? Involving what, his father leaving?

  Is that why he thought I had betrayed him? I stopped meeting him after my father passed away, while Lyle was going through a tough patch. Still, I didn't know enough to actually feel guilty about it.

  Mum looked at us both with a pensively. "Two amnesia patients? This is a rather delicate situation
…"

  I resented that. I did not have amnesia. Merely…some parts of my memory refuse to work. I guess they're on permanent strike or something. Both my mum and the doctor seemed to think otherwise however.

  "Well anyway, the reason I called you here was…I heard Lillian Desai visited your house the other night. Just be cautious of the Desais. Both of you," my mother continued mysteriously.

  "Why, Mum? Lillian is a really nice girl!" I blurted. I mean, she was the one that had saved us from the handcuff incident after all.

  "I didn't say she was nasty now, did I? I just said, be wary. Those who seem pleasant at first may be hiding something, and those who we consider enemies may actually be our allies," Mum finished.

  Lyle remained quiet the whole time, leaning in front. He seemed preoccupied as he absentmindedly tugged at his dark hair.

  "Mum, have you been reading too many thrillers? Just tell us what you want to outright," I insisted.

  Mum looked askance at us, and then made a few indecisive gestures that made her seem a little simian-like. With my acute sense of insight I could tell she was hiding something.

  "I can't sweetheart, the doctor forbade me to. What would happen if I did, and the truth drove you mad? There's a reason you two can't remember much – it's like your minds are trying to protect you."

  Trying to protect us? More like, trying to confuse us even more. I didn't get any of this, and by the looks of things, I'd understand second order differential equations before I got any of this. I simply needed some time to think.

  "Whatever. I'm off to bed, got an early class tomorrow," I got up.

  "I should get going too. Have to do my bit for the Halloween Fete preparations," said Lyle.

  "Indeed! It's next week, isn't it?" said Mum excitedly, "Lea, you should help Lyle."

  "She is, actually. Goodbye, and thanks for the advice," replied Lyle as he went out the door. I briefly wondered if he'd sleep in those Sailor Moon pyjamas. They were my favourite, although a little too big for me.

  I went to bed thinking of various things, mostly to do with apple pie and gardening. But the circumstances surrounding my father's death peeked in too. And what role did Lyle and Lillian have in it? They were probably connected, as Mum had hinted. Ah well, I said to myself, best save heavy thinking for philosophers.

  Chapter XI: Twisted

  * * *

  I was walking home from school, tightening my jacket around me as another one of those ice-winds cut through my internal organs. I had to resort to wearing this frayed piece of moth-eaten cloth because my actual jacket was now in shreds thanks to Lyle Parker, the terrorizing teen of the town. Well, to me anyway. Only I got the privilege of knowing his true sadistic nature. And the thought of having to address him as 'Lord Sparrowick' in the future made my skin feel like live arachnids were crawling under it. And possibly laying eggs too; it was that bad.

  But my heart felt lighter as I saw my house approaching. Obviously, this also meant that the scary haunted castle was also in view, but this had been the case for as long as I can remember. I was born in this house, the Dupont Residence. The view from the living room had always been that towering black construction with the terribly unkempt garden in front. The castle wasn't the issue - the inmates were.

  Mum wouldn't be back for another couple of hours, so I decided this would be a good time to get some Autumn gardening done. Yep, watering my little babies (the celery, red cabbages and pumpkins if you prefer) would be a nice distraction from Maths homework. I was thankful that Pythagoras had been dead for a few thousand years (well, history is not my strong point either). At least he couldn't come up with any other pain-in-the-arse theories from his grave.

  And speaking of graves, guess who appeared before me just as I was about to take out my keys.

  "Lea, come over to my place tomorrow 5 am sharp. We start decorating for the Halloween Fete. Everything needs to be ready by Monday," came a deep voice that was as dark as the winter evening sky behind us. Lyle was wearing his navy blue uniform with a matching blazer. I envied his warmth. He obviously hadn't heard my chattering teeth.

  But 5 am? What in bloody hell was that? I'd look it up on Wikipedia later. For now I didn't want to show my ignorance, so I simply nodded. It was funny, I wasn't that scared of Lyle anymore, and by that I mean I was now only terrified of him, instead of being petrified to my toes every time I heard his voice. I had been seeing him a lot lately, so the novelty was probably wearing off.

  It's as they say: Fear turns to Hate, which in turn becomes Apathy. Or was it Love? Nah, Apathy sounded more correct. I was most likely currently in the transition between 'fear' and 'hate'.

  "Ok," I replied, "By the way, are you still using my pyjamas?" I asked, letting a smirk slide accidentally.

  Lyle turned his eyes towards me. "No," he replied icily.

  "Aw, come on, I bet you slept in them!" the devil in me made me say.

  "I did not. If you keep going on about this, I'll give it the laser treatment like I did with your lovely red jacket."

  "What, that's so unoriginal, you've already used that 'punishment' on me," I said, not quite sure why I did.

  "How about giving your flesh the laser cutting experience then?" Lyle retorted. He must have seen how pale my face had gone, because he continued, "Or better yet, maybe the bandsaw. And I could use the reamer on my drill for the fat on your body. Along with spot welding your joints together..." That creepy distortion of a half smile was back.

  "Alright, alright, I'll be there tomorrow even though it's a Saturday and I should be lazing-...doing my maths," I quickly replied, hoping he'd stop his disturbing list.

  "That's the Lea I know and love," he replied sarcastically, as he deliberately brushed a finger lightly against a strand of hair on my cheek. He had already removed his hand before I could jerk my head away.

  We turned our backs to each other; the both of us proceeded to our respective homes. Sure, the Parker residence was twenty times the size of our place, but ours just felt warmer. I dumped my schoolbag somewhere, ran upstairs to wear three layers of jumpers and then rushed out into the garden. I turned the hose pipe on, ready to nurture my thirsty October plants.

  It felt extremely peaceful as I looked at the silent trees surrounding the vegetable patch. They were almost fully naked now. This was My Peace. My Sanctuary. My garden.

  The rhythmic gurgling of the water made my brain want to think. What did Mum mean yesterday about Lillian? Beware of what? She didn't seem like a dangerous person. And then all that stuff about me and Lyle having amnesia from when we were twelve. And Dad... maybe Lillian had killed Dad, haha. Well, I knew it was preposterous. Everyone told me he had died of an unexpected heart attack. And if everyone said it, I most certainly believed it. ...Didn't I?

  "Hi, Lea!" someone said, tapping my shoulder. The sound of another voice startled me so much that I let go of the hose pipe. Unfortunately it went snaking around before half soaking the person behind me.

  It was a petite girl with dark hair, dark skin and one arm in a sling. That hair was now dripping with water.

  Lillian Desai.

  I have no idea why I made a habit of dousing the people around me. I concluded that water probably hates me.

  "Oh Lillian! I'm so sorry – Let's go inside so you can dry yourself off..." I said apologetically.

  We went in and I handed her a towel that had a pattern of dancing pumpkins sown on it.

  "Festive touch," Lillian remarked, and we both giggled.

  "So, what's up?" I asked, pouring us some tea.

  Lillian flicked her hand nonchalantly. "Nothing much you know, just checking up on a friend," she replied in a jovial manner.

  She had just called me her friend. Normally I would have found that polite and nice, seeing as we had only met once before. But after what Mum had said yesterday I had my guard up. Strange how a mother's words cast an iron grip over the brain. I swear, if Mum told me a cat was actually a dog, I'd go around throwing sticks at slee
ping felines and ask them to 'fetch'.

  Then I remembered Lillian was one of the main organizers for the Halloween Fete. And both Lyle and Steven were participating.

  "Um...I'm helping Lyle out with the preparation tomorrow. Can't believe the Fete is on Monday, it's coming up so fast!" I said, pretending to be excited.

  "Yeah, me too. And I'm finally getting my cast off tomorrow, which is a relief. This thing itches like I have fleas or something," Lillian rolled her eyes.

  I laughed again. Really, Lillian was a perfectly nice girl, and I felt like we had the potential to become very good friends. At least, she wasn't the type of person to murder people like my Dad. It wasn't right that she had her arm broken.

  "Actually...Lyle was planning on apologizing properly for what happened to your arm at the Fete. He only did it by accident, you know," I said. I didn't have to tell her the complete truth; that Lyle went into a rage after being called a 'twat'.

  "Yeah, I..." Lillian started. She stopped abruptly and narrowed her eyes. "Lea...why are you defending Lyle?"

  I choked on my tea. What did she...How would Lillian know...Why was I defending him?

  I said something incoherently. I sounded a bit like a Frenchman I think. My grandparents would be proud with me recognizing my French heritage.

  "You and I both know he pushed me on purpose," Lillian said, leaning in towards me. Her tone had gone eerily soft, sending shivers up my neck. It reminded me of Lyle's tone in a bizarre and unconnected way.

  "I...I...no he wouldn't, he's a gentleman...he's Sparrowick's Hottest Teenager..." I stammered. Was I still trying to protect him? I think the chilliness had frozen the nerves in my brain.

  Lillian smiled a half smile, as though she had stolen the trademark from Lyle. "You're an easy girl to understand. I like you, Lea. I feel like we could be great friends," she continued with an honest yet persistent tone.

  "Really? Thanks..." I replied, Mum's words haunting me.