Bogleech.com's 2014 Horror Write-off:
My neighbour was sleeping in a tent out the back of his house last night, when asked for explanation he told me that “her smell was everywhere” and he couldn't get it out of his mind. He said he would clean his house tomorrow, tonight he will sleep in the garden.
My neighbour confronted me as I was getting my shopping in. “Oh I didn't realize you have a car mate!” I nodded in the affirmative, knowing that no lie or trick could dismiss from the simpletons mind the very fact I had just got out of the drivers seat of a car. “I need a favour, me best mates daughters in the hospital I need to go see him like, he's helped me through some hard times.” This goes on like this for some time and I of course relent, the middle class fear of what he would do to me should I refuse got the better of my sense. We drove through the night to the hospital, he got out and I drove away, determined to clean myself of the whole thing. I had a shower, and in that warm refuge came the phonecall, shattering all illusions this was to be an ordinary night. “I'm done now mate, can you come pick us up?” The tone implies she was there as well, and perhaps others... I relented to the affirmative and retreated from my half completed shower, once again back out into the night, to the hospital. I ended up picking up him, his girlfriend, a random pair of strangers in a relationship and the injured child. Paddy assured me she had gotten “knit shampoo” in her eyes. She looked like little Orphan Annie. I dropped off the couple and the child near where I used to live and then drove my Neighbour home. I stayed awake all night, fearing a banging on my door.
I staggered home late last night, I was wasted, a night stupidly spent in a Bacchanalian frenzy. My neighbour waited outside my door, with she hunched squat beside him. A joint was offered, and in my weakness for the weed I partook. We talked witchcraft and spells and all seemed merry, I played music loud and felt jolly for a time. Then came the awkward questions of money and favours, it worried me and I asked them to leave. They did.
My phone flashed this morning. “Can I borrow some Bacca?” the message read. I've stopped smoking now, and all I have left in that old box is dry and stale. I give it him gladly, but realize there is not as much as first thought. I saw a look behind his eyes then, old and rancid, reminiding me so completely of those school yard bullies. Stammering I gave him £5 for bacca. I've promised myself he will pay it back.
I was at my mothers house this evening, I'd only just got from my travels and having nothing in the fridge decided to beg for alms. She received me gladly. Later on my phone rang, it was my neighbour so I hung up, the feeling I got when I saw his eyes is now triggered by thoughts of him. He rang me two more times in quick succession, my the third I was practically nauseous. He then text me “Hey Bro where are you? When you get this, ring me back ASAP” I put a brave face on it and complained to my mother about the tone it was sent. The face was too brave, she missed the cry for help and moved on. I fell back silent, driving home soon afterwards.
I was walking home from a friends house, high as a kite, stumbling back through the town, the landmarks around me evolving in my mind scape into a set of maddening picturesque photographs in which I was the star. My mind aflame in the mysterious of the universe is when I encountered them. They shambled out of the park to my right, seemingly Siamese now bound by their thick Addis bombers I sensed it for the first time, an ancient horror drilled into my brain since my conscious began, a grim tornado of muddy needles. “Can I like put your house down as my primary adress so I can claim gyro, they stopped mine.” I sober up instantly, I know what this means, and attack the simpleton mind again “I'm way too high to deal with this right now, I'll look into it and talk to you tomorrow.
As I staggered away I begin to reflect on my situation, and I think now of all those bills I receive through the door for names I do not recognise. I think of the Landlord who has switched my contract to a rolling one, and I think of the rutting screaming sounds my neighbour makes in the dead of the night. Now I look to the door, and I'm scared for my life.
THIS IS A REAL STORY
THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENENING.