The Neighbour's House

Voices

As I drove away from another boring, stressful day of school, my cellphone rang. I wasn't the most popular girl in the world, by a long shot. I rarely ever got phone calls.
Looking down at my phone as I unlocked it, I saw that it was from my mom. Oh, no. She only ever called when there was something really, really wrong.
“Hello?” I tensely answered.
A sigh erupted from the other line. “Jaz, thank God. Can I ask of you a great favour?”
I giggled. I loved how my mom talked. “Yeah, Mom, what's up?”
“Yeah, you see, my car broke down on the corner of 66, could you maybe... come give me a lift? I'm at the Toyota on Washington... I'm sorry,” she added, as I sighed.
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do it. Just give me a couple minutes, cos these stupid people won't stop blocking the road!!” My sentence turned into a shout at the end, followed by a loud, impatient blast from my horn. “And those are lewd hand gestures, sir!!” I shouted at a particularly disgruntled pedestrian.
“You're a lifesaver, honey, thank you,” my mom said, paying no mind to my road rage. “See you in maybe half an hour?”
“That seems a good estimate,” I responded, finally turning the corner to exit the parking lot. “Love ya. Bye.”
Twenty-five minutes later, I walked into the car dealership, where I found my mom slumped over in one of the plushy waiting chairs. She perked up when I entered.
“Well, the good news is, they can fix it, and it won't be too terribly expensive!” she said, with a sad sort of grin on her face.
“But the bad news is you still need me to take you home.” I said, filling in the blanks.
“Yeah...” she said sheepishly.
“Come on, let's go,” I said. “Will I have to take you to work tomorrow, too?” I asked.
“No, I can get your dad to do that,” she said. “I don't want you to have to go too far out of your way for me!”
Relieved, I turned on the radio to accompany our return trip home. My mom wasn't much for conversation unless the other person was the one starting it, so we sat in content silence until I pulled us into the drive. The neighbours were pulling in at the same time, even exiting their car at our pace. I waved again, when I caught the husbands eye, and they waved back, in the same coordinated manner.
Didn't there used to be three people living in that house? I asked myself.
I shook my head. Where did that come from? It's only been those two, since I can remember.
My mom was looking at me with a confused look on her face. “Who were you waving at?” she asked me.
“The neighbours?” I replied hesitantly.
“Jaz, girl, there's no one there.” My mother replied, concernedly.
“Yeah there is, they're right-”
As I turned around to point out the couple standing in the driveway, they were gone. Not even their car remained.
“But—I-” I stammered, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“Jasmine, no one's lived there since... you know... and then they moved. Remember?”
I shook my head in silence, trying to make words fit the thoughts flying through my mind. Mom gently took my arm. “You must be really tired. Let me fix you some soup while you do your homework, okay?”
I nodded, still stunned. Slowly, as I trudged through my trig homework, the experience became a distant memory. My brain can be kind like that, letting me forget stuff I really don't want to remember. My mother's soup also helped calm me down. Soup is one of the few things she can't burn, and just being left alone most of the evening eased my nerves greatly.
I went to bed early, lying awake in my cocoon of warmth, trying to think happy thoughts until I could fall asleep.
I was almost there when the loudest shout pierced through my calm barricade. It was a sob, a cry of pain that brought tears to my eyes and made me curl up tighter in my covers. The sounds carried on, fading away, getting quieter and quieter until I could almost dismiss them as a howling dog or speeding car. I snuggled up, and sighed. The worst was over.
“PLEASE!!!”
A man's echoing, pleading voice opened my eyes and forced my tired body to stand up and run toward the direction of the sound. I found myself staring at the covered window that would look onto the neighbour's house. I trembled, tears silently streaming down my face, as I reached out to gingerly touch the curtains and delicately pull them aside.
I wasn't going to look at the white room, I told myself. I wasn't, I wasn't, I wasn't.
Another scream, which melted into a sob. “Please... PLEASE, NO!!”
I couldn't take it. Losing all civility, I hurled the curtains open and stared out.
The neighbour was in the room. Just standing there. I thought I caught a glimpse of something glinting in his hand.
I'd never seen the neighbour in this room before. Even over a year ago, when I dared myself to see how late the lights in the white room stayed on, I fell asleep a little after midnight. When I awoke a few hours later, the lights were already off.
The neighbour twitched his hand. If I had blinked, I wouldn't have seen it. The glinting object was gone, and a new scream erupted throughout the night. I scrunched up my eyes, whimpering.
The sounds died away, and I slowly, slowly raised my head to look out the window one more time.
The neighbour was pressed up against the window, staring straight at me.
Gasping, I pulled the curtains shut, and hid myself in my bed, hoping I would never have to leave when the morning came.