"Here we go," I said to Squee, flinging open the door to my bedroom. "You can have my bed tonight. It's not like I ever use it."

"...Are you sure...?" he asked timidly, staring up at me with those wide, infinitely and almost sickening adorable eyes.

I shrugged. "Yeah. I don't sleep much. If I do, it's usually because I collapse on the floor out of exhaustion. Human needs are such pesky things, are they not?"

Squee cocked his head to the side like he didn't know what I meant. I sighed and lifted him onto the bed, tucking him under the sheets. "It's not a bad bed, though," I assured him. "If I didn't find sleep itself so detestable, I'd rather enjoy retiring to it every night. You just relax, and I'll keep watch for your parents. Okay?"

He nodded, shaking for some odd reason. "O-Okay..."

"Well, g'night, then!" I said, trying to sound cheerful. I headed to the door. "Don't let the giant evil roaches bite!"

I started to shut the door behind me, but stopped. "Uh...I'm serious about those roaches. I keep a knife under the pillow in case they try to bite me. If you cut off their heads, the bodies just wander around aimlessly. I'm sure you can handle it. 'Night!"

I closed the door and headed to the living room. Just as I sank onto the sofa, I noticed a pair of headlights from the window round the corner and pull into Squee's driveway.

With a groan, I forced myself to stand once more and snuck outside to listen to what was going on.

"He's gone!" a woman's voice cried, sounding almost joyful.

"Gone? You're serious?" a male asked.

I recognized them both instantly as Squee's parents. To hear them sound so excited about the disappearance of their only son was quite annoying to me. I fought the urge to snap each of their necks and continued to eavesdrop on them.

"Quickly, get everything you can," Mrs. Casil told her husband. "We can send movers for the rest later. Didn't I tell you if we left for a while that he would try to go look for us? Didn't I?"

"You did," Squee's father admitted, "and it was brilliant! Now that we're rid of that pest at last, we can finally take that roadtrip to Vegas, that vacation in the Carribean...Ah, all the things we couldn't do because of that kid..."

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand to listen to these two scumbags talk so disdainfully about their own son. Still managing to somehow keep my composure, I strode over to them casually and leaned against my side of the fence that separated our properties. "Well, I couldn't help but hear that you two are going on a little trip," I said smoothly.

"Oh!" Squee's mother jumped, startled by my sudden appearance. "You scared me!"

I grinned. "My bad. So, Vegas? The Carribean? Sounds fun."

"Oh, yes," she gushed. "We've dreamed of going for such a long time now, but we've never had the chance. You know, kids and all."

"Oh, kids, yeah..." I mumbled, "They can be a handful, I imagine. What with all the love and affection and attention you have to give them to make them happy. I'm sure it's very difficult."

"I don't like your tone," Mr. Casil spoke up, giving me a suspicious look. "And I'm sure I haven't seen you around here before. Who are you?"

"Why, sir, I am insulted you wouldn't recognize your own next-door neighbor," I drawled, weighing down my voice with sarcasm. "You should know me. I'm very good friends with your son."

"Todd?" Mrs. Casil stammered. "...That's his name, right?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, disgusted. "What kind of mother forgets her own child's name, may I ask?"

"Oh, a mother who never intended to become one, I guess," she sighed. "You couldn't imagine having to care for a child you never wanted."

"I believe I could," I replied, my voice instinctively receding into a low growl. "You, madam, are a most repulsive woman. Are you aware of that? Don't you know how many women there are who don't ask for their children, but love them all the same? But I suppose you're too consumed with your love of drugs and booze to distribute it to anything worthwhile."

"How rude!" she cried, looking expectantly at her husband. "Are you going to just allow him to speak to me like that? Are you?"

"I was only thinking," he murmured, slowly leveling his gaze with mine, "how the kid is always going on about the crazy neighbor man...And I've never seen this guy before...You're the one he talks about all the time, aren't you?"

I smiled, but I imagine it wasn't a pleasant one, because it made the two of them nervous. "Squee talks about me, eh? How nice of him to mention me to his parents. You know, he's over at my house right now. I let him stay over while we waited for you two to come home, but I think it would be best if he never knew you came back. I think it would be better if he thought you died in a tragic accident. Yes, I think that would be fitting..."

Slowly, I drew a knife from behind my back (I always carry one, you see) and leaped over the fence. The blade glittered quite beautifully in the silver moonlight, reflecting the terrified expressions of my soon-to-be victims.

"OH-!" Mrs. Casil's voice was cut off as I slashed the knife into her throat. She staggered clumsily to the ground, leaking blood all over the driveway. She was twitching, gasping for breath, trying to scream.

I smirked. "I didn't cut deep enough for her to die quickly. I'd give her an hour at most...Not that I'll allow that. Now then, sir, I believe it's your turn!"

I lunged at Squee's father, brandishing my knife and laughing gleefully (hey, it was fun!). He dodged, and I just barely scratched his arm.

"Keep away from me!" he shouted. "Stay back!"

"Shut up," I ordered. "Squee is asleep. I'd hate for him to wake up and hear you yelling. It wouldn't do very well for him to see you get murdered if I try to tell him of your unfortunate accident."

"You're crazy!" he screamed. "You're insane! Do you know that? INSANE! COMPLETELY WACKY!"

I halted in my tracks as that word-that horrible, filthy word-exited his lips. Of all the things he could have called me, he chose that. That terribly nasty word!

"You stupidl, dumb FUCK!" I bellowed, jumping at him again. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME THAT! HOW DARE YOU!"

I don't quite remember what happened after that. The next thing I knew, the man was sprawled out on the ground before me, his tounge torn out and his eyes pushed deep in the back of his skull. A pool of blood encircled him, pouring out from a large gaping hole in his torso.

"Shit," I muttered, annoyed at the mess I had made. "He had to get me all worked up. Now I've gotta clean this up before sunrise. Damn..."

I dragged each of the bodies into my house and tossed them into the basement, then set to cleaning up the scene with bleach, ammonia, and any other chemical I could find. It took me the entire remainder of the night to get the driveway and sidewalks clean. By the time I returned to my house and tried again to relax on my sofa, it was seven in the morning.

As soon as I had turned on the television, I heard the bedroom door squeak open and Squee entered the room.

"Johnny...?" he whispered, clutching his teddy bear, Shmee, who I was not particularly fond of. "Good morning, Johnny..."

I tried to smile at him, but I just couldn't. "Hey, Squeegee. Why are you up?"

"Well...It's seven o'clock..." he stammered. "I have to go to school today..."

I frowned. Send the kid to school after everything that had happened last night? Send him to some kiddie hell where stupid children would pick on him and call him names right after he had lost his parents? I didn't think so.

"Like hell you're going today," I told him. "I'm taking you out, and we're gonna have us some fun."