We were neighbors. I remember watching him and his parents taking boxes from the back of a large truck, carrying them into their new house. I watched them from my bedroom window.
“Ted! Don’t dawdle! Bring the cutlery box inside!” called the woman I assumed was Ted’s mother. Ted rolled his eyes, which made me laugh. He then walked into his house carrying a box labeled “kitchen”.
I spent the rest of the day watching Ted and his family get used to their new house. I ran from room to room. To whichever window had the best view. I watched them unpack and have dinner and play games. It was so much fun. Their house seemed so alive compared to my own.
My mother was ill. My father was dead already. A thick silence lay over my house. One that was only broken by the occasional groan of discomfort from my mother as she lay motionless in her bed. She was dying, but I couldn’t take her to the hospital so I cared for her the best I could. I fed her and got her water. I tried to spend as little time in her room as possible. It was dirty and didn’t smell nice.
That night I fed my mother as quickly as possible, then ran back to the window. Ted was in bed, his father sat on a chair nearby, I could see his mouth moving. Telling him a story? Does Ted like stories? I thought to myself. Eventually his father left the room, flicking the switch on the wall as he left. Leaving us both without light.
It went on like this for a few weeks. It was like my own personal TV show. Watching Ted and his parents live their life. I took to waking up at 6am, then I’d watch as the house next door slowly came to life. Ted’s dad usually woke up first, I don’t know what his job was but he work a fancy suit and carries a briefcase out the door each morning. He usually left the house just as Ted’s mother woke up.
To be honest Ted’s mother was the most boring to watch. Which was a shame considering she was a housewife who spent the most time at the house. She always started cooking breakfast then woke Ted up.
Ted was not a morning person. He took ages to wake up each morning, and was even slower getting ready for school. His favorite shirt was red with an open book on it. I knew that because he wore it almost all the time.
I hated it when he left for school. 6 whole hours, 5 days a week. It was boring. I struggled to fill these 6 hours, at first I just sat near the window. Waiting. I wished I could go to school too but I hadn’t been for a long time. Mother wouldn’t let me leave the house after father died. She was meant to homeschool me but then she got ill.
I soon started to spend those empty 6 hours reading. Learning as many stories as I could. That way if I ever spoke to Ted, I’d have hundreds of stories to tell him and he’d want to be my friend.
Ted usually returned home at around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. If it was raining he’d spend his time playing video games indoors, if not though, he’d run around his backyard. It was on one of these sunny days when we spoke for the first time.
I saw Ted run out into his backyard. He was kicking a soccer ball around. He was smiling brightly until he kicked the ball too hard and it went over the fence. Into my yard. At first I wasn’t going to do anything, but seeing my friend so sad I couldn’t just sit there.
I couldn’t even remember the last time i’d been in the backyard. It was overgrown, and the ground hurt my feet. I ran out the door so fast I didn’t have time to find my shoes.
“Awww man. Dad’s gonna kill me.” My breath hitched. It was ted. I’d watched him from afar for so long but this was the nearest I’d even been. I quickly grabbed the ball and threw it over the fence. I waited. “Huh.” His confusion subsided quickly “Thank you neighbour!” He shouted it over the fence. A bright smile filled my face and I couldn’t stop myself.
“You’re welcome!” it had been so long since I’d spoken that loud it hurt my throat
I was about to go back inside when Ted shouted “ what’s your name? Mines Ted.” Once again I couldn’t help but reply to him.
“Abel”
“Ted, dinner’s ready!” His mother called from his house, interrupting our conversation. I heard his footsteps as they got further away. I retreated back to my house.
As soon as I entered I ran to my mother’s room. She stared at me blankly as I apologized over and over again for leaving the house. Then I went to the basement to fetch dinner.
My mother and father believed that the apocalypse was bound to happen any day. The basement was a bunker. Full of canned food and essentials. Wall to wall
After my first conversation with Ted, every time I saw that he was playing in his yard I ran to mine. Our conversations were usually short, interrupted by his parents each time. I liked talking to him through the fence, we were friends. Fence friends as Ted used to say.
But then the cracks started to show.
It started small at first. Ted’s dad started to get home later and later. He acted weird. Stumbling as he stalked through the dark house. Then he started getting angry more often. He would shout at Ted’s mom so loud even I could catch glimpses of the arguments.
While his parents argued, Ted would sit in his room, reading. Escaping. I wished I could help him escape. But how could I when mother forbade me from even leaving the house.
One afternoon I saw Ted in his backyard, so, like always I ran to mine.
“Abel?” Said a small voice.
“I’m here.” I replied.
“Something’s wrong with my dad.”
“…”
“He…he’s angry all the time. He shouts and says mean stuff to my mom.”
“…”
“I’m scared that…that he might hurt my mom.”
“Would he hurt you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You can come to my house Ted.” I had never had a friend at my house before
“Really? You’ll… you’ll keep your door unlocked then right? Or do you have a spare key?”
I didn’t have time to answer.
“HEY!” It was a deep, angry voice. Filled with hate. “THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU LITTLE SHIT?!”
Ted didn’t say anything. His father however went on and on and on. Spouting vile things about his own son. They boiled my blood with anger. I made sure to keep my door unlocked from that day on.
As time went on, I started to dread looking into the house next door. Ted’s father didn’t go to work anymore. He stayed at home most of the day, leaving for a few hours whenever it got dark, coming back, disheveled, a few hours later.
Ted’s mother got a job, she worked long hours and always looked tired. I think she worked so often to avoid her husband.
Ted. When his family first showed up, he was always smiling, so much so it was infectious. But when I looked at him it was almost like a mirror. He was so alone.
I had watched this family decay before my eyes. They were slowly crumbling but then they suddenly collapsed.
I was reading. Ted had gone to sleep already, his mother was still at work and I didn’t like watching his father anymore. That was when I heard a scream. My eyes shot up. Ted’s mother must have got home without me noticing because she stood in the kitchen gripping a kitchen knife.
“What?” I said into the silence
Ted’s father walked in. He gripped a hammer in his hand. He shouted at Ted’s mother. His face was twisted with disgust. The woman held the knife in front of her but it was no use. Her own husband brought down a hammer on her skull. Taking her life. It was then I noticed Ted. He had snuck down the stairs at the sound of shouts and cries. He ran through the living room and out the front door. His father followed
I was terrified, so I ran to the basement like my mother taught me to do if anything ever happened.
The front door exploded open. Then slammed closed. I heard the sound of someone attempting to lock it.
“ABEL!” Ted shouted, panicked. “HELP!”
I didn’t move. I was terrified. This was the first time a stranger had ever been in the house. As I stayed hidden in the basement, I heard Ted running, then the noise of furniture scraping against the floor.
BANG. BANG. BANG. “LET ME IN YOU LITTLE SHIT!” The deep voice was distorted with rage. The door rattled with the force of each hit. Then the thuds got louder and shouts got angrier.
I could hear the tears and fear that soaked Ted face and voice.
“GO AWAY!” Was all he could manage before breaking into loud violent sobs.
A final thunderous BANG followed by the splintering of wood and the toppling of furniture.
He got in.
This realization finally forced me from my frozen state. I ran down the stairs. A large man stood in the doorway, he carried a hammer and towered over a small boy. I didn’t have a weapon but I didn’t care. I pushed past Ted and grabbed his dad.
“You fuckin’ pervert.” He spat at me “Talking to my kid through the damn fence huh. You’re a fucking creep.” He said this as we struggled for the hammer. We slammed into walls. Hands grabbing and feet kicking.
I won.
He ended up on the ground, he clawed and hit and grabbed and pulled but it wasn’t enough.I brought the hammer down on his skull. Again and again and again and again.
I stood up. I looked at Ted. I saved him. I smiled as I looked at him, but it soon left my face as I stared at his expression. He was terrified.
“It’s ok now Ted. The monster is dead.” I said.
His features became even more warped by fear. “WHERES ABEL? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?”
“I am Abel.”
Horror filled his face. “NO! ABEL’S MY FRIEND. YOU’RE A MONSTER. YOU KILLED MY DAD.”
He hated me. No! He was just scared and shocked. Anyone would be after all that. I just needed to talk to him.
I carefully stepped towards him. He stepped backwards. I lunged towards him but I was too late. He fell. Backwards. Into the basement.
Thuds sounded as he hit each step on the way down. Then silence.
I cleaned up my house. And Ted’s. His mother and father live beneath the dirt of their backyard where their son used to play.
A few official looking people went poking around Ted’s house but they left and haven’t come back since.
My mother was very upset with me. She refused to eat or drink for days. She’s now in our backyard, but it’s okay because I’m not alone.
I have Ted.
He’s quiet. But I just fill the silence by telling him all sorts of stories. Stories of far away lands, of heroes and villains. This is my favorite one to tell him though.
The story of the boy, the monster and the hero nextdoor.