Nightmare with the Neighbour

by Martha Greenwood

  "So tell me the truth Lea!" insisted Daya.

  The truth eh? Not like anyone would believe me anyway, so I replied, "Well, you know I'm really into gardening? I was just cleaning up the pumpkin patch when I fell into a huge bush of nettles, and then a bee stung me, after which a helicopter crash landed on my remains…"

  __

  I made my way home, skipping along the way. I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into the delicious apple pie my mother had prepared. I could smell the characteristic sweet spiciness from outside the house. I couldn't wait to tell Mum about Daya's crazy hat and her plans for Halloween Fete. The rare October sun warmed my back as I took out the keys to enter my sanctuary.

  But as I remembered the proceeding of the morning, my naïve happiness disintegrated like potato peels at the bottom of a compost heap. The sun hid behind a wayward cloud, probably to enhance dramatic effect. I turned around to face the castle behind me, with its tall turrets and unkempt front garden. It seemed to beckon me ominously, and my heart sank a good deal. Better to go now than to get dragged there, I thought, shuddering.

  I walked down the path to the castle with reluctance in every step, but curiosity about Lillian made me move forward (as well as the thought of the leash). It was slightly more accessible this time around. I guess Lyle's efforts at de-weeding weren't completely wasted.

  The front door was slightly open, so I stepped inside.

  "Lea?" I heard Lyle's dark, deep voice floating around me, "Come on upstairs, everything's ready," it continued.

  To my horror I seemed to remember where Lyle's area was. You can forget many things in the space of five years, so why hadn't I forgotten that?! I walked up the dusty stairs and made my way to the West Tower, otherwise known as Lyle's Lair.

  The door to his bedroom was open, so I scuffled in. I saw Lyle sitting on a deep armchair in a very laidback manner, looking at me mockingly. He seemed to be holding a pair of handcuffs, but that was probably just an optical illusion. Right? Right? …Right?

  "You're here. Now we can begin," he said sounding amused as he gave the handcuffs a little tug.

  Chapter III: Captive

  * * *

  I felt my whole head fall downward with despair when I saw Lyle tug at the handcuffs playfully. His face contorted into something others would call a 'gleeful smile'. Saying that it did not bode well was the understatement of the century. It irritated me that he found such pleasure in my trepidation and pain. I entered slowly and raised my head to look at him. Was I really going to fear him for the rest of my life?

  The momentary smirk on Lyle's face then disappeared. This boded even less well. I felt something like hopelessness. Why in hell did I come to the West Tower? I could have been at home eating the apple pie and discussing Daya's new hat with my mother…

  "Lea, do not make that expression," Lyle said with annoyance. He threw the handcuffs aside with a violent jerk and got up from his armchair. It was a very fine chair - I think even Napoleon would have been jealous of it. I pushed down the urge to sit on it and stroke it, as there were more pressing issues at hand.

  "I'm not making any expressions," I replied in a flutter.

  "Every time I approach you, you make the same face. Like you are a pitiful princess stuck in a tall, unreachable tower. Like you are waiting for someone to save you. Ihate that face!" Lyle exclaimed heatedly. I instinctively hid my face thinking he would slap me. Instead he gently picked up the handcuffs again and smiled. I couldn't understand – he had just being throwing a tantrum. Well, no use pondering; This was Lyle we were talking about after all. If he hadn't been so obviously a man I would have said he was a pregnant woman.

  "I can't help my facial expressions…" I said quietly, looking elsewhere, "besides, I am in a tower," I mumbled, hoping Lyle hadn't heard. I was not really my fault. Catching Lyle's eye directly had always made me feel the need to escape his dominance. Even now I just wanted to jump out of the tower. Still, between Lyle and Death, I'd choose Lyle – even though it would be very close indeed. Besides, I was here to learn about this elusive and mysterious Lillian.

  He leaned over me with a stern, cold look. I stared into his (very close) body awkwardly. Someone was having temper issues, and I didn't want to exacerbate them by opening my mouth.

  "Are you scared of me?" my worst nightmare asked.

  "…No," I replied. Just to elucidate – when we were nine years old Lyle made me eat a frog from his garden that he had skewered on a toothpick. When we were eight he gave me a Chinese burn as a birthday present. And when we were seven…well let's just say I got a great view of Lyle's garden when he dangled me out of the West Tower window by my leg. So no, I'm not scared.

  "Good," Lyle said, "Then you won't mind putting your hand on my shoulder."

  Okay, no harm could come from that right? Well, just as I was about to prove my courage I fell into his trap. I felt cold metal touching the skin on my wrist, and looked to see one half of the handcuffs around it.

  He had managed to get me yet again. Would I ever learn? I felt like the lamest loser in the world. I was beginning to despair of myself, and then I began to despair in general when I caught sight of Lyle's sadistic smile. He clicked the second half of his handcuff on his wrist.

  "Now you can't escape…You say you don't hate me, but sometimes I wonder when I look into your eyes…I've got feelings too, you know…"

  I could not hear any of what he said over the racket my heart was making. We were too close for comfort and my Lyle sensor was going crazy.

  And that's when I thought: Why do I let myself be manipulated by this creature who was clearly Beelzebub incarnate? Do I have to be subject to the shame, pain and misery of this man? One day I would dominate over him, and then he'd know. One day I would emerge victorious, with Lyle at my feet.

  "You need to help me apologize to Lillian"

  Fine, I'd start my revolution after this…Besides, it's sort of hard to move when you are handcuffed to someone. Hooray for distractions.

  "Oh yes, this Lillian I keep hearing about! Are you in love with her?" I blurted out without really using my brain.

  "What?!" exclaimed Lyle, "No! Thats...Not with her anyway," he said flailing his arms. He must have forgotten we were connected because that sent me flying straight into the arm of his chair. Yay, more bruises. On second thought, he probably did that on purpose. That would make more sense.

  Ignoring the fact that I was entangled not only with his chair, but also with my hair and the carpet (don't ask) he continued his story. Stupid handcuffs…

  "Lillian Desai is a girl at my school. A few weeks ago she said something I didn't quite like. So I…did something to her," Lyle narrated.

  I gasped. "You raped her!" I shouted.

  "…Honestly Lea, do you wish me to crack your skull against my stone wall? And don't move so much," he said giving the handcuffs a tug which made me go into an even more awkward position involving my stomach switching places with my liver.

  "Then…you made her eat an amphibian…" I continued. I desperately began to hope he would he release me some time this century…

  "No. Oh yes, I did that to you once didn't I?" Lyle said smiling nostalgically, "Those were good times Lea. Pity we haven't seen each other much lately." He stared into the distance. I have no idea what he saw there and frankly I don't care. I was extremely thankful for the five years respite I had from this big bully. In fact, that was the only good thing that came from Dad dying on me. I had an excuse of being in mourning and all. Oh where are you when I need you Dad…?

  "I pushed her down the school stairs. She thinks I did it by accident, but I haven't apologized yet," Lyle said completely unremorsefully.

  "Oooh apologizing! What is this new habit of yours?" I retorted, a little amazed at my bravery. Pushing someone down the stairs seemed rather tame for Lyle. Nevertheless it was shocking to think that temper could be so dangerous. I felt sorry for Lillian, but in my mind she was strong enough to take care of herself. Unlike some pe
ople… I mentally pointed at myself.

  "You're one to speak. Gotten a lot more sarcastic, haven't you?" he said giving another tug as my punishment for replying back. Perhaps you are wondering why I didn't tug back and get my revenge. Well, compared to Lyle (who is a monster by the way) I am weak. Would I have to win against him in arm wrestling in order to fully defeat him?

  "What did Lillian say to you?" I ventured to ask. Whatever it was I would get her to record it into a downloadable podcast and I would listen to it on my pink Ipod every morning before school.

  "You really want to know don't you. She called me a…twat."

  I stifled a giggle, which turned into a snort which in turn transformed into a sneeze.

  "What?!"

  "No, I said 'twat' you deaf person! Rhymes with 'mat' and 'hat' and 'do-you-want-fries-with-that'."

  Oh, that was genius. I couldn't wait to meet this saint. The first thing I'd do is ask for an autograph.

  "I mean, who calls the gentleman of Sparrowick a twat? I'm Sparrowick's Hottest Teenager for God's sake…But I do have an image to keep up so you must help me with the apology."

  "Fine. I will," I said reluctantly. I was getting pulled into his domain again… His image was his problem. I swear if I remain a doormat to Lyle I am going to crack.

  Lyle stared at me.

  "Of course you will. That wasn't a question."

  I badly wished I had a shovel.

  "Listen, the Halloween fete is this Friday. I'm in charge of a stall, so when she passes by that's when I'll say it. You'll be helping me out with the stall, and providing moral support generally," Lyle announced the plan.

  "Hey…where's my say in this? This morning you said you'd give me a choice!" I didn't want to mind some boring old stall on Halloween's night.

  Lyle smiled and said in that hypnotic voice of his, "You do have a choice. Either you refuse, and I don't unlock the handcuffs. Or you help me, and I set you free. I seem to win either way..." he said after a short pause.

  And I would lose either way…as is always the case.

  I sighed.

  "Good. I give you permission to escape. Just hand me the key, it's to your left," Lyle concluded with finality.

  I tenderly extricated myself from the abnormal position I found myself in. Lyle didn't help me at all – all he did was stare in that unnerving way of his. I hated it. But then again, what did I expect? This was Lyle after all…

  "Here," I said handing him the only key that was there.

  There was silence for a while.

  "This is my house key," Lyle said.

  "Oh. Well it was the only key there-"

  Lyle and I both looked at each other in horror, and then looked at the cuffs. I stabbed the key into the hole in vain.

  Oh God. Oh no. Oh dear.

  Chapter IV: Prisoner

  * * *

  My name is Azalea Dupont. I live in Sparrowick, which is a small town in the outskirts of London. I'm quite an average seventeen-year-old girl – long blonde hair, an unhealthy love of gardening (hence my plea for a shovel at the beginning of this story) and the proud owner of Sailor Moon pyjamas. I also love my mother's apple pie. She is chubby. I don't have a father.

  And my neighbour is a monster. A cruel, sadistic, deranged creature from hell. I wouldn't be surprised if he turned into a disgusting bat every night and sucked the blood of fresh little children.

  Oh?

  I'm exaggerating, you say?

  Lyle Parker is simply misunderstood, you insist?

  Then please explain why I'm stuck handcuffed to him with no hope for breaking out?

  * * *

  "I'm quite sure I kept the key right there, on that table next to you Lea," Lyle said calmly. I failed to understand how he could keep his head in a situation like this. I was ready to scream. Screaming however, although fun and stress-relieving, would accomplish nothing. In my most even voice I replied, "Surely it's still somewhere there then? It probably tumbled into that crevice behind."

  "That is quite probable. Let's look there," replied Lyle lifting and moving the table aside. I guess being handcuffed to someone wasn't Lyle's cup of tea either. It seemed like we had something in common there. Then again, the handcuffs were useless now that Lyle had managed to successfully threaten me with them. They had outlived their purpose. They were nothing more than used tissues.

  "…I'm glad you decided to help me with Lillian," Lyle started slowly. I was looking into the crevice with a torch, praying a shiny thing would make an appearance.

  In which imaginary world had I decided that?

  "Yes, well, what else are friends for?!" I retorted sarcastically.

  Lyle momentarily stopped his rummaging, becoming very quiet. He turned his face slightly away from mine and whispered, "Yes." His eyes looked away from me which was a change from his direct stares.

  I was not sure what to make of this reaction so I simply carried on searching for the elusive key.

  "Ah! There it is!" I exclaimed happily as soon as my eye caught it lurking in the shadows. That key was the Key to my Future.

  "Good work Lea! Now to get it out. Ugh - "

  Lyle's hand was too big to fit in the crack. I gave it a go too, in vain. Not willing to be outdone by a crack and a key I thrust my un-handcuffed hand in once more with a war-cry. It was mockingly out of reach. I pulled my hand out roughly in frustration ignoring the light scratches I received in the process.

  "I don't want to be stuck with you forever…!" I complained.

  "Technically this is your fault Lea," added Lyle.

  "How?" On no plane of logic could this classify as my fault.

  "You kept moving into the table. If you hadn't resisted earlier this would have been a lot easier. Are you completely useless?"

  I could sense something like rage creep all over me. And then it seeped out too.

  "Lyle, I've had enough! We're going to get these handcuffs off even if we have to chop off our own wrists," I said viciously.

  Lyle smirked arrogantly. "It's enough if just one of us does," he said in an obvious tone.

  I ignored him.

  "Let's find Steve. He'll know what to do," I added. Steven is Lyle's older brother. He is like Lyle minus the sadistic jerk-ism. Oh, that doesn't leave you with much does it? Suffice to say that Steven smiles genuinely. He also plays the cello. Apparently he is something like a national star in the classical music world.

  Lyle looked dubious. "We can try. But if he's in the middle of a rendition he might ignore us."

  I had a look on my face that said 'Oooh'. "I really like his playing!" I blurted.

  Lyle looked at me scoffing. "He sounds like a banshee trying to sing while bathing a cat."

  "Don't say that! If anything, he sounds like an angel calming the banshee with his beautiful playing," I said in an inspired voice.

  "You make me sick," replied Lyle elegantly. He began to drag me to the door and onwards to the East Tower, where Steven resided.

  * * *

  Lyle banged loudly on Steven's door calling out his name. Soft music emanated from his room. It made me want to melt onto a thick velvet sofa outside in the gentle spring sun. For a few precious seconds I had forgotten my predicament.

  "Is that you Lyle? I'll be with you in five," Steven replied after which the music resumed.

  "Steve, spare us, my ears are rotting off…" Lyle complained. I couldn't understand how any human could resist that pleasant sound. But then again – this was Lyle we were talking. Most likely he wasn't human at all.

  I raised my hand to scratch my hair. I was quite sure there weren't any lice but if by chance there were they would have to look out for their own lives. Lyle snapped at me to stop it.

  "We are still handcuffed, don't make any unnecessary movements."

  I sighed. Lyle was such a bully. I wondered how much Steven had changed these past five years. I had not seen him recently (apart from the brief episode in the shed that we should all forget). When we were children he
would sometimes nice games with me like 'house' and 'tag' and 'aliens'. It was a welcome change from Lyle's 'Prisoner'.

  "Hey Lea, I need your mobile phone number," said Lyle ruthlessly breaking my train of thought.

  He most likely wanted it to ensure smooth running of his 'Say Sorry to Lillian' plan on Halloween Fete. I had no intention of making things more intimate between us so I thought up the best lie that would convince him.

  "I don't have a phone anymore…I lost it. In a…fire. A fireman returned it, but by that time it was too late…" I added to give my story more credibility. I even shed a tear. I hoped he'd buy it.

  "Oh? You are a liar. What's that in your pocket?" Lyle pointed at me unbelievingly. Lyle has an uncanny ability to perceive people's exaggerated truths.

  This still took me my surprise. I was wearing one of those jackets that have secret pockets on the inside. This is where I had stored my mobile. From the outside it was perfectly invisible, so how could Lyle know its location? The only plausible explanation was that Lyle had X-ray eyes. Which wasn't that far-farfetched as he is a creature of the night. Then I began to worry about what else he could see with them…

  "Look at your face! That was too easy. Lucky guesses can get you very far," said Lyle. With a nod of his head he beckoned me to take it out. I shrugged. Can't do much about them lucky guesses. It's how I passed Geography after all.

  "Thing is…the phone is in my secret pocket, and I can't reach there because of these," I rattled the cuffs. I could not wait to see his annoyed and disappointed face at this new turn of events.

  Instead he moved closer to me and started undoing the zip on my jacket.

  "I am your right hand after all," Lyle offered as explanation.