I'm very much in love with the guy next door and he loves me as well. His eyes are brown and so is his skin. I love him so much I can imagine being with him all the time. No matter what I'm doing, visions of him will pop into my mind.
Last night, I just happened to be looking out of the window towards his house when I saw a silver Cadillac drive up. He answered the door in just some blue boxer shorts to let the girl with the blond weave into his house. She looked about six feet tall and was so skinny she probably could have squeezed herself through his keyhole. They went inside and I saw the lights in his living room went off and the lights in his bedroom came on. I knew it was his bedroom because I watched him get ready for bed every night. I saw their shadows move together as they kissed and then parted. Then, he began to undress her. I didn't even realize that I was digging my acrylic nails on my right hand into my left wrist so hard that I was starting to bleed. After a while, the bedroom lights went out and I could see nothing for the next two hours.
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I finally saw the girl emerge from his house at three in the morning, her weave dishevelled. She looked in the direction of my house and saw me as she made her way towards her car. I looked the other way to pretend that I was doing something else. I didn't want her to tell him that he had a crazy next door neighbour or something like that.
When he came home from work that evening, I gave him a tuna casserole
that I made from scratch. I quit my job about a month ago so I
could watch his house while he was at work. I just wanted to make
sure everything was okay. I was about to get fired anyway because
I spent most of my time day dreaming about him. I was hoping I
would be able to move into his place before rent is due again.
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Two nights later, the same girl pulled up in front of the house. She probably couldn't even cook. And she definitely wasn't going to keep his house clean the way I sometimes break in and clean up when he was at work. Maybe the car is the difference between us. Hence, when I saw the lights go off in the bedroom, I grabbed my coat and went out to her car. My own car was repossessed three days ago. However, that was okay. We would work out transportation after I got settled into our home. Anyway, I knew better than to slash her tyres. That would just give her an excuse to stay in our house longer. I took my house key and ran it across her passenger door three times. I did the same thing to her hood and her trunk. I wanted to scrape my initials into that nice paint job, but I thought better of it. Some nice squiggly lines would do just fine. She didn't leave until ten o'clock the next morning this time. I was tempted to go over and drag her out at around four in the morning. I'm sure he wanted her to leave as much as I did. Nevertheless, I held my peace. It was okay because I would soon be living there and she wouldn't be pulling anymore stunts like this. In fact, I realized it was worth the wait when I saw the look on her face at the sight of her newly scratched car. She marched her flat butt right back up the hill and told him what had happened. I almost fell off my window seat as I saw her pout and stomped her feet like a spoiled brat. Speaking of brats, I think I am pregnant with his baby. I am pretty sure of it. They called the police, but I was sure he didn't want the mother of his unborn baby get arrested for something so stupid. The police even came to my door to ask if I had seen anything. I said no and I told them I wonder who would do such an awful thing.
Our Happy Home Part 1 | 2
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