I washed the blood off my fingers in the bathroom sink, looking at myself in the mirror before lowering them to my necklace.

I almost forgot I had this on… I picked it up by the charm, intently staring at my name.

I released it, having it land on my chest. I touched the band-aid on my forehead, feeling dumb for slapping my head on the old mirror at the secret hideout.

I shouldn't have done it… I regretted it miserably. Although I don't feel bad for giving a whack at the man.

It's unbelievable how Hannah was worried for him, giving me a stare of coldness. Shuddering, I feared she wouldn't be my friend anymore… She is my first one in years of being friendly towards me. I couldn't imagine someone without her, regardless of her father being a nuisance. He detested my presence while all I can do is do the same for him.

I've been told to give him a chance, yet…how can I when all I see is his bitterness?

He's so like one of my parents…

Shutting off the sink, I dried up my hands, heading out of the bathroom. I made my way to the living room, seeing my aunt reading.

I sat down, grabbing the remote but made no effort on turning on the television. Flipping the remote in my hand, then tossed in each one, back and forth.

"What book are you reading?" I cut through the silence.

"Killer Dreams," Aunt Sarah responded casually. "Hadn't read it since my teen years. I'll let you read it…"

"No…no… I don't want to," I dropped her offer.

Aunt Sarah shrugged until her eyes went to my forehead. "What happened there?" She pointed at the band-aid.

I tenderly brushed it. "I…sort of smashed my head on a glass mirror at the secret hideout…" I gave her an explanation rather lamely. "Hannah, uh, she had to fix it up."

"Such a sweet girl," she expressed pleasingly.

"I don't think friends tie them up," I said, getting a confused look.

"...tied you up…?"

I waved my hand. "Forget it, she was trying to keep me still while she put some kind of stuff on it."

She set her novel down on her lap. "I should take a look at it…"

"I told you - she fixed it up," I reminded, placing the remote back down.

"Alright, alright," my aunt seemed to surrender lightly. "I know I stated she's a nice girl, though sometimes injuries require going to the doctors," she acknowledged obviously.

I thought about what Shivers had mentioned about what I did to him, glimpsing at where his blood was left on me. "...agreed… I'm gonna put a movie-"

I hadn't gotten the chance to finish when a knock came at the door.

I knew who it was, feeling my stomach turn…

"Be right there!" Aunt Sarah sang out, marking her spot in her book.

The twisting hadn't quit, knowing that I'm gonna hurl like last time.

My ears caught the sound of the door opening, my heart pounding in my chest. I began to sweat…

Aunt Sarah was about to greet the I-knew-who when he went first without speaking softly.

"Your niece thought it's the best idea to launch my nose!" I had to cover my ears, not wanting to hear any complaints from him. "I almost thought she broke it. It stopped bleeding, except it's sore."

Even though my hands are over my ears, it didn't stop their voices from getting through.

"She hit you?!" Her cry had no trouble going through my ear drums, having me press my pointer fingers into my ear holes. "Esmeralda Rose Harper, get over here!" she ordered outrageously.

Swallowing hard at my full name - Esmeralda Rose Harper - I bit by bit got up from the couch, inching towards where she's at.

I did this purposely, her waiting impatiently from where she and Shivers are waiting.

Shivers - I mean, Mr. Creep - had his eyes shooting through his eye wear. They seem to dig into my soul…

Another shiver - could be the reason why his last name is Shivers - because he's definitely giving me them, feeling them run down my spine nonstop.

Both adults had their arms folded, waiting for what I had to say for myself. I shifted from one foot to the other.

I shifted my eyes at our neighbor, except I couldn't make eye contact. They went to the floor. I don't feel any remorse for what I did and I voiced it out.

"I don't feel bad for what I did, he needed it. Feeling awful for what I'd done isn't going to happen to him, not feeling sorry. The only person I felt sorry for…is Hannah. She has no freedom, is petrified of you, won't tell me the honest truth - which friends should do - getting screamed at. Getting you punched in the face is a wake up call for him, all due to him doing the same for his daughter. She may not have any bruises-"

"She doesn't have any since I'm not an abusive father," Shivers interrupted.

"Quit with your fantasy," I stopped him. "Who knows. It can be the next bestseller."

I saw his face turning bright red - his entire face - looking like a cherry I will take off of sundae ice creams. If there was smoke, I'd see it come out of his ears.

"I'm sick and tired of your make-belief you can come up with."

I wanna punch him again… I held myself back, my fury matching his. "Admit you're lying…I want the truth."

"Hannah is fine, there's nothing hidden," he slowly snarled.

"Then give me proof," I demanded.

"You want proof - stop being friends with my daughter!" he shouted.

"That's the proof right there. You don't let anyone be her friend. You have this 'great' idea, according to my friend, about only having her homeschooled."

"A lot of parents homeschool their own kids; it isn't against the law."

"Boy, I wonder what you're teaching her. I know, teaching her about not making any friends - by staying inside."

The redness on him turned more red, his fingers curling in, creating tight fists, his body shaking with rage. "Ever since I told you to stay on your side of the fence, you did nothing but disobeyed my order."

"Good, I'd rather ignore your demand than to listen to it. Stay on my side of the fence, such a pitiful thing to say to someone."

It seemed like I got him worked up to where he reached his boiling point, exploding like a volcano - with no lava. "I don't want people like you bugging us!"

"I'm not bugging you. I'm certainly not going to listen to your 'advice' by staying away from you and Hannah."

"She's my daughter!" he squalled.

"She's my daughter." He clenched his teeth when I did my best impression of him, deepening my voice to try and match his. "That's all you say," I said in my normal girl voice.

"It's because you won't-"

"Why do you keep her indoors? Why are there locked manuscripts in your study? Why?"

"It's none of your-" He raised his hands, grasping his hair, huffing a breath. "I'm done, we should've moved," he gave up.

"We only met you for the last couple of days…" Aunt Sarah made her point in which I rolled my eyes to. I thought Shivers moving would be better, though I don't want his daughter going with him. She needs to be in a different home, I know it. "I know how you feel," she spoke understandingly, giving me the bird eye. "We would move if someone doesn't listen to us," she empathized.

"I think we should move - as well as bringing Hannah - with us," I determined the better, being bold.

"We aren't moving, Ezzy." She gestured her hand at Shivers - or Mr. Creep because I'll keep calling him that - her face stern. "Say you're sorry."

"For what?" I acted like I don't know why I need to.

"You know what." Both her and Mr. Creep waited for my apology.

Except I didn't… my eyes went to his before I turned away. "I won't say I'm sorry…" I refused. "I take back my other apologies - for you shouldn't get any in the first place."

"Ezzy!" my aunt shot at me.

"Too bad," I snapped back. "There's no point in doing it; he'll continue being a jerk to her," I bristled grimly. This was received by a wide, scary stare from our neighbor who seems to be holding in his hot temper. "Moving to different areas isn't going to help, you'll always be a cold-blooded person. You're her daddy, dads aren't supposed to treat their kid like dirt - explaining why she's afraid of you every time she sees you."

When all is said and done from my eyesight, I expect him to spill it out. Regardless, I got something different.

"I wouldn't treat my daughter like soil I use for my garden. I wouldn't think of laying a hand on her. I cannot see myself throwing things or anything else I can do to cause pain upon her…unless it happened to you…"

He sharply glanced my way…the given death stare I came across during my childhood… No words were able to leave out of my mouth - none at all - stuck in my throat, having me rub where my scar is located…

Always wish it would go away…

The awful memories swam inside my head, leaving me to tightly press my teeth together. "...don't…mention about…my past…"

"I know nothing about your past!" he said lividly.

"Good!" I gave him a yell in return. "I will always hate them! Like how I hate you! No matter what I do, I cannot forget about the past. It's…it's…" I struggled to say more, except I couldn't. I grabbed my hair, yanking it. "Whenever I see you being…mean to Hannah, you…you…you bring these powerful recalls I try to bury away, and it isn't working," I hollered, wetness coming to my eyes. "Hannah needs to have a better-"

"I will always have her no matter what you say!"

At this point, I didn't think. I couldn't restrain myself anymore. I grabbed something off the small table, heaving it towards the wall.

I then went to attack him when I got pulled back, catching a twisted look from him, an evil grin spreading, replacing his eerie frown, enjoying my struggle to go at him.

God, do I want to rearrange his face, to rip his lips off of him…

"Seems like your aunt is stronger than you," he sneered, keeping his chuckle soft to where I can hear it.

"I see that," I recognized, trying to unwrap her arms around me.

Shivers looked from me to my aunt. "I should leave you two be." His grin faltered, jabbing a finger in my way. "It seems like she needs help."

"...I…" She kept her grip tight. "...made an appointment for her to go to her new therapist tomorrow."

"Therapy won't work; it hadn't worked last time at our old home." I yanked myself free. "It's a waste of time. I'm going to get myself a snack." I went to go to the kitchen when I was grabbed by my wrist.

"I want you to apologize."

"Aunt-"

"Now."

I looked at Shivers who was giving off his terrifying smile. "I'm…sorry."

He didn't reply, closing the door, then stopped where I could only see his face, giving me a teasing look, though it wasn't a friendly kind of way. He proceeded to close the door, leaving me to stand there.

Remembering I want to have something to munch on, I strolled into the kitchen. Going through the snack cabinet, I took out a honey bun.

Tearing it open, I used the wrapper to keep my fingers from getting sticky. Aunt Sarah came with the same disapproving frown.

"Solving things with violence won't do anything. It's unbelievable what you'd done to him. You don't hit someone. Not acceptable," she lectured, sounding like a teacher. "I can tell you don't feel bad for what you did. I don't want Shivers and Hannah to move."

"Shivers can leave…" I took a bite of my snack. "Hannah can stay with us." I drummed my fingers on the counter. "I…she better not be mad at me for hitting her dad…"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she is," she responded to my hopefulness. "Honestly, I'm beginning to think you're having anger issues from the hate you are having with our neighbor," she mentioned with concern.

I finished my snack. "The person who has anger issues like an uncontrollably beast is Mr. Creep."

"Shivers," she corrected me. "It's Mr. Shivers. Strange last name for a sweet guy like him," she commented.

"His name fits-" I went dead end, my eyes going wide. "Sweet guy?" I was puzzled. "He's more sour than sweet. I don't get why you hadn't caught the bad side of him." I raised my hand. "Actually, no matter what I say, you'll always see the 'good' in him." I threw my trash away, the lid of the trash can swinging inward then back to it's original spot. "The only time you see bad in people are from…" …I had to pause for a second - perhaps two - to get them out of my mouth. "...them… My own family…"

Thinking about them made me give a good, solid kick at the trash can. It wobbled then regained its balance.

I put another kick to it, harder this time, replacing my thoughts on them onto the creep next door.

Look, I may have used my fist on somebody, except what choice do I have? I gave him the pain he needed to feel for hurting Hannah - in which he refused to confess, to confess everything.

My friend also has a confession she needs to spill out. She's hiding something from me…

I knew I won't get them, though I will before it's too late for her.

I actually cared about her - like a friend should be doing - wanting to get her out of the household even though she's living with one person. A man who tortures his one and only kid who is the same age as me.

I walked past aunt Sarah, plopping myself back on the spot on the couch, on the same spot. I turned on the TV with the remote, watching what's on anyway when it got taken away.

Aunt Sarah shut it off. Her expression wasn't mad nor happy. It's full of sorrow.

"Listen," she started, sitting down next to me. "Things have been tough on ya; it doesn't give you the idea to claim our neighbor to be evil. If he were, I will see it for myself," she tried to reason with me.

I wasn't having it, my eyes on the turned off television. "You keep missing it. His grin of terror, the way he speaks…"

"There's nothing wrong with the way he talks, Ezzy," she told me.

"It creeps me out," I grumbled, slightly glancing at her. "Sounding like someone who can narrate horror stories. Hannah mentioned her dad did have a job but she didn't want to tell me what it was…" I played around with my necklace. "...Perhaps she won't tell me any time soon."

"She won't tell you on the grounds that it could surely be a secret," she put in a good theory. "Her dad could be, I don't know, possibly has a job too embarrassing to give details." She saw the empty look I'm giving her, considering I hadn't understood what she's saying. "Shivers may have a job…" Her brain ran out of what she was trying to figure out when she let out a breath. "I can't say what job he had because we don't know what he did. We should ask him."

My blank eyes squinted before I closed them with a shake of my head at her out loud idea. "I would rather not know." I took back the remote, but I didn't turn back on the television.

I sat there, my mind in a daze. I let go of the remote, allowing it to drop on my lap. Looking at it, I ran my fingers on the arm of the couch. "Besides," I continued on, before she had anything to say, "it'll be no use in asking him… I don't want to know what his job is - even though I know what he does."

"Oh." By the tone from her voice, it sounded like she couldn't wait to know what kind of job our chilling neighbor has. "I would like to hear what kind of job you think he has."

"The one job he has is…" Shuddering, I couldn't get rid of the images of Hannah's dad… her…sinister dad… He's a nightmare. "He's scary enough to where he could write his own scary books. Perhaps I would say he could create a book series," I changed the topic in an instant, rather not wanting to say what he does for a living, on the other hand, she would say I'm making things up.

A soft laugh came from her. "It could be possible for him to become a writer. He does fit to be a horror writer from his personality."

"Basically you're saying someone has to be scary to write horror…" I tried to picture R.L. Sine - my favorite author, although I do know there are other writers who wrote books of terror - being scary everyday.

This time, she laughed loudly. "People who write scary stories aren't really scary," she sort of exclaimed. "Speaking of scary writers…" She placed a hand on my shoulder. "You should check out other books," she advised. "By other authors who wrote horror." She thought for a minute. "I have been doing my hardest to get you to read other books besides Goosebumps."

"You have been doing all you can to get me to read other stories that aren't scary," I remembered warily. "I should," I agreed to her suggestion.

She got up. "Let's go."

"Go?" I questioned uncleared. "The bookstores are more likely closed." My finger pointed out the window of the night sky. "Unless you want us to break in." I don't want to rob a store. No risk in taking something without going to jail.

They should've been in jail…

"It won't close within two hours; we can still go." She got her purse before putting on her shoes.

I don't say anything in reply. I got my shoes on, following my aunt Sarah to the car. We got in, heading to the bookstore.

While my aunt drove, she turned on the radio to slice the silence.

The first song that came on is none other from the Hot Led Park band.

"Do you know what it's like when

You're scared to see yourself?" The music sounded…depressing… making my heart shrink…

"Do you know what it's like when

You wish you were someone else?" Yes…sometimes… "Who didn't need your help…" There are too many days where nothing has helped make me…smile. "...to get by…"

I listened to the song, seeing how it fits me…

"Do you know what it's like

To wanna surrender?" I want to.

"I don't want to feel like this tomorrow!" The lead singer of the band raised his voice to the music.

"I don't want to live like this today!

Make me feel better, I wanna feel better

Stay with me here now

And never surrender…"

"Never surrender…" the background band sang.

I wonder if this singer has wanted to surrender to something, my ears catching the meaning behind the song.

Almost all songs have something to talk about…

"Do you know what it's like when

You're not who you want to be?

Do you know what's it's like to

Be your worst enemy?" The worst enemy I can think of is me… "Who see things in me I can't hide

Do you know what it's like to wanna surrender?"

I have seen Hannah give into her dad's demands…unable to stand up for herself, matter how hard she tries… Trust me, I tried doing the same…

"I don't want to feel like this tomorrow!

I don't want to live like this today!

Make me feel better, I wanna feel better

Stay with me here now

And never surrender…" I know I shouldn't surrender to my neighbor… my intention is to try to get his daughter away from him… my last attempt hadn't worked.

The music went to a short solo before it was sung.

"Make me feel better, you make me feel better…

You make me feel better…" The music of the guitar played quietly as the lead singer sang calmly.

"Put me back together!" The singer sang out loudly, the music starting up.

Makes me want to know who is singing this song… Yet, I'm not someone who looks up other people…

"I don't want to feel like this tomorrow!

I don't want to live like this today!" The singer repeated, sounding…confident this time.

"Make me feel better, I wanna feel better!

Stay with me here now!

And never surrender!

Put me back together!

Never surrender-"

My aunt shut off the radio when we pulled up to a driveway. She parked her car then got out. I got out, shutting the door.

I looked up to see a store - a large bookstore - before me, a sign reading Barnes And Noble on it. I saw people going in and out, making me feel a bit uncomfortable, thinking it'll be too crowded to go in there. I know I don't do well at buffet restaurants, not sure about other public places.

I took a deep breath, surveying the parking lot, seeing not too many cars.

I should be okay… I guess…

My aunt briskly walked where I had to move fast to keep up with her. We entered the bookstore.

There, inside, I saw books - hundreds of books - on the shelves in the bookcases. I saw signs for each genre - romance, fantasy, horror, sci-fi - anything you can think of.

The books go from kids books to adult stories. I was about to go to the horror section when I was pulled over to the fantasy section - teen fantasy.

It doesn't take long for aunt Sarah to pick out three books.

"I heard of about these books but I don't have the interest in reading them. It's a German trilogy series by Kerstin Geir."

I was handed one of them. "Ruby Red…" I raised an eyebrow. "This isn't in German," I told her clearly.

"This is the English translation," she explained. "The English translation ones got published in the year of twenty-eleven to twenty-thirteen."

"...what are the German titles called?" I have a deep doubt that she knows.

"Rubinrot, Saphirblau, and Smaragdgrun."

I blinked, seeing she hadn't said them, wondering who did.

It came from behind me. I looked behind my shoulder, then couldn't help but let out a groan.

It was Shivers. He must've gotten here after us. We got here two or three minutes before him. I can't do anything about it, knowing this store is for everyone who is a bookworm.

He grinned in my direction - an eerie one - coming over to us, grabbing a book off one of the shelves. "I see you're surprised of how I can say them without messing it up," he noticed my aunt's expression.

"It's that… we never knew you spoke German," she responded, the shock not leaving her.

Shivers opened up the book, flipping through the pages. "I don't." He shut the book firmly. "I did read them for a German class I took back in high school. My German teacher wouldn't allow us to read English written books." He chuckled, picking out another book. "She wanted us to learn it."

"She forced you and your classmates to read them," I said, jumping into the conversation.

His smile turned upside down, narrowing his eyes. "It wasn't by force…"

"Sure, it wasn't," I replied. "It isn't by force to leave your daughter at home every second of the day - when she can come here and pick out a book for herself."

"She doesn't need to." He grabbed another book. "Hannah will like this one, too. Queen Of Shadows - one of the books for herThrone Of Glass series."

"Then what's that one?" Aunt Sarah asked curiously.

"A Court Of Thorns And Roses," he answered, holding it up. "It was released a few months ago. The next one will be released next year. These are both written by the same author, Sarah J. Maas."

"If you don't mind me asking, why can't your daughter come with you?"

"I…don't want her coming with me." I can tell he's lying from the way he spoke. "I…like to surprise her when I get new books for her," he tried to cover up.

Lies. All lies.

"How nice to surprise Hannah with a new book. Have you heard of an author known as Iris Johansen?"

"Never heard of her," he shook his head.

"She's an author who writes romance, suspense, and crime fiction," she discussed one of her favorite authors.

"Any authors you don't enjoy?" he questioned, grabbing another book titled An Ember In The Ashes, along with Half A War. "There are authors I don't enjoy, especially one of them who I should not say his name," he said, screwing up his face with

"I cannot say there are authors I can pinpoint that I don't like; rather genres I don't seem to enjoy."

"Like what?"

"Horror, mystery, and sci-fi, are the ones I don't like."

"Doesn't interest you, huh?" My aunt nodded to his response. "Every person has their own taste…" We watched as he grabbed a book called Absolute Midnight by someone named Clive Barker. "...to what they want to crack open to read." His eyes flickered at the book I'm holding, leading me to hug it. "My daughter enjoys different types of horror - since there's more than one type - including romance and fantasy. She's not into regular sci-fi or mysteries, but I'm doing my hardest for her to get into them."

"I know what mystery series are, I have no clue what regular sci-fi is," she said admittedly, in which I have to agree on.

Perhaps I should look at other books in this store…

With Ruby Red in my hands, I went over to the sci-fi section, known as science fiction - regular science fiction - while our neighbor explained what normal sci-fi is to her.

I wasn't sure what to pick, considering it difficult. I'm completely used to reading one genre and one author…

I have to read other genres… Revelation Space is the first thing that caught my attention. Putting my first fantasy book under one arm, I took the science fiction into my hands, leafing through each page.

"You know, you won't know if you like it or not by skimming it."

I wanted to snap because I knew who it was. I closed the book. "I wasn't skimming, I'm going through the pages," I spoke, highly annoyed.

"Mhm…" Shivers smirked at me, causing me to grit my teeth together. "Maybe Pegasus In Space?"

I pushed the book out of my face. "Don't try to help me. I would rather have my aunt help me than you." I was tempted to read it… these genres around me are beginning to…taunt me. "Let it be clear that I'm used to reading Goosebumps books by R.L. Stine who vanished without a trace," I added, putting Revelation Space back where I found it.

"Goosebumps, hm? It seems like the books I wrote - I mean, collected - are special due to having locks on them."

I squinted my eyes. "There's still something you aren't confessing…"

"Like when I keep my daughter from having friends?" he responded, refusing to budge like always.

"No. Well, yes. It isn't fair for you to go out, without having any father-daughter time," I chastised. My neighbor's smirk got wiped off his face, adjusting his glasses by pushing them up. "It's like you don't want her to exist, keeping her a secret from everybody," I continued, giving him the low down. "Too bad you don't want to send her to a new home. Too bad you won't admit to anything. Too bad-" I let out a gasp when he shoved me up the bookcase.

The book I was holding dropped to the floor, my hatefulness turning to fear, his burning eyes stinging into my skin… His fingers grip on the upper part of my arms… I tried my hardest to get free, except I couldn't. I looked around, except no one was close by… I wasn't sure about calling for help.

I opened my mouth to yell out when he growled into my ear, ignoring my struggles to escape from him.

"My precious Hannah isn't going anywhere…I won't tell you anything about us…especially me… I don't want anyone to know who we are…who I truly am… if my advice had worked, you wouldn't be snooping about our business…" He released his tight grip, while I rubbed it away. "I would like it if you and your aunt moved, but your aunt has more respect than you do. I wouldn't want her to move…" He jabbed a finger in my face. "...unless you want to show the same respect as her, stay away from my daughter and I. We don't want to have anyone nosing into our private lives," he seethed incensed.

"Private due to not wanting anyone knowing what you actually do to Hannah," I did an attack back, feeling more displeasure. "I'll get the truth someday," I promised, picking up my book. "Someday someone else will get you to crack open."

I walked by him to the romance section, picking up a book with the words Matters Of The Heart.

With me holding it, I looked around, seeing how organized they are. For example, I saw a section for dark fantasy books.

I will look at them after I pick something out from the horror section.

Getting there, I did an inner groan, seeing Shivers. Seriously. It's like he appears from thin air.

Too…creepy…

What am I saying? He is a creep. Creepy enough to keep things like dark secrets.

The Doll Who Ate His Mother was the first horror book - something I hadn't read - I chose, the cover looking…interesting…

While I held it, I saw another one. Jack-In-The-Box. The artwork all… it sent chills down my spine… It didn't help that the cover was facing towards me and not showing me the spine.

It was written by William W. Johnstone, while the other one is written by an author known as Ramsey Campbell.

I decided to have these two, then went to see if there's any other ones that I wanted to have, while I acted like my neighbor wasn't there.

It wasn't easy, I have to confess. I practically had to use my hair as a curtain to get him out of the side view of my vision. I wasn't sure which was more terrifying. These books or him.

"Let's see…" I murmured to myself, to try to keep him from catching what I'm saying. "I can get Teacher's Pet by Andrew Neiderman or Child's Play by the same writer…" I chatted about my options. "Maybe gothic horror?" I wasn't sure. I wasn't in the gothic horror section. "I should pick these two." I grabbed the books, since it's a pain in the drain to choose one.

This is how all bookworms feel, I bet. And I don't think I am one unless reading only Goosebumps considers being an egghead. Eh… I don't even care…

I went down the aisle, stopping at a well known author. Stephen King.

I hadn't read any of his books before… I wonder if they're any good. My hand got a hold of Pet Sematary. …this looks good.

I didn't want to carry these books. Why couldn't bookstores have carts or baskets? It's like they think people can control themselves by getting one book to buy.

My ears caught the noise of grimacing. I saw Shivers inches away, picking up a Stephen King novel - Cujo. I wasn't picking up what he's gibbering about, assuming he's jealous… he couldn't be jealous…could he?

"My daughter has been wanting to read these…" I finally heard from him. "Except…" he went on, being unnoticed. He exhaled. "...I shouldn't…"

"Why?" Next to me, he jumped then quickly recovered. He wasn't too keen on seeing me. "She will enjoy a Stephen King book," I spoke my mind. "She has different horror books, especially gothic horror."

"I would rather have her read those ones than this." He stabbed his pointer finger on the book. He placed it back. I saw him give a pure of disfavor, taking the book again. He mouthed something, wishing I could read lip.

"You don't appreciate Stephen King," I suspected, getting a beady eyeball.

"I don't have to enjoy him like you do," he said.

I blinked. "Hadn't read any of his stories." Shivers kept his demon gaze on me, on my soul. "I haven't read any authors' books in my life," I said, doing my best not to be afraid of him. "Thinking about it, I have a sinking feeling there's a reason why you don't like him."

"There is no reason…" He placed the book back. "I don't like his writing, including…" He droned out what he said next, leaving me to respond in question.

"Huh?"

"Including the fact he's a horrible writer!" I was startled when he jumped down my throat. "He's no good," he disputed crisply. "I know better authors than him, even the ones who aren't around anymore."

"Saying awful things about an author you aren't into won't do anything…" I faltered, seeing the glare of death. The hairs on both my arms sprang up straight.

"Everyone has a right to have their own opinion about someone." I was moved away, stumbling on my own feet. "Something I think about you ever since you and your aunt moved here in one of the houses that had been up for sale. Whoever moves in the other house will listen to my warning - unlike you - who thought it was a good idea to break into my own home, snipping the cords of my security alarms for the doors."

"Shocking how you don't have them for your windows," I inputted flatly.

It's like I offended him - somehow - when his eyes got all dark. "I lock the windows to-" He thrust his finger close to my face, getting too close to poke an eye out "-keep you out, in order to keep my daughter inside." He curled one side of his lip upwards, showing a bit of his teeth. "I always keep her in, away from others…" He sniggered, his laugh out of ear shot of others. "Heh, heh, you did try to 'save her life', like how a good friend should do, failing at it." My teeth gnashed one another, like a wild animal ready to bite… "It doesn't matter what you do; you're unlikely to get her out of my home," he went on, the direful grin glued to him, almost taunting me. "On no account, she isn't going anywhere. Mainly, the exception is when she and I move - to get away from those who are too busy being engrossed about us…for the rest of the time…she has to stay home, even when I go do my errands…"

"You belong in-!" I stopped myself when I was shouting, gaining worried looks to those who got to the section full of books of terror. But Shivers wanted to hear it.

"Where do I belong?" My mouth stayed shut, my face turning red when I yelled in a public place. "Where do I belong?" he spat out. "Say it!" His volume rose, daring me to speak. "Tell me where I belong!"

Now I was starting to regret what I was about to say, though at the same time, I have to complete it. A deep breath was let into my lungs. I breathed out slowly, looking him in the eye, finishing up what I wanted to get out.

"You belong in…hell."

For some reason, instead of getting heated, he laughed - loudly laughed - catching more attention from others, ignoring them like we're the only ones here. I couldn't understand as I stood there, hardly believing it.

From the corner of my eye, the people who were watching slowly went back to book shopping, moving away from the scary books, like they wanted to get away from him - something I should do.

His eyes are scrunched shut, his laughter taking over, sounding like the monster he is. I edge my way, wanting to get to my aunt. I want to get away from the nightmare man who torments his own daughter for who knew how long.

I come to the conclusion that not only is he a cruel dad, but also sadistic, too. I have a gut wrenching feeling he enjoys terrorizing Hannah from time to time.

Almost dropping what I have, I felt pressure on my right shoulder. I had one foot forward, the other back, frozen in place.

My heart raced. My breathing was shallow. Goosebumps began to grow on my arms… I wanted to call for help, but the words got stuck in my throat. I went to pull away when the pressure tightened. Fingers dug into my shoulder the more I try to break free.

Recalling images flooded to me, recalling events on how I was grabbed in different ways during my childhood. I hated being grabbed and restrained, like how my friend had to keep me still enough to clean the cut on my forehead at the secret hideout.

I wanted her to be here… I wished. I pulled hard, yet, he wouldn't loosen his grip. I desperately looked for aunt Sarah, hoping she'll see the truth in him.

I felt his grin, pleased at my efforts to get his hand off of me. I twisted around, yanked. Nothing worked. I lined up both my legs. Picking up one of my feet, I pulled it forward - then flung it behind me.

The heel of my shoe brushed against one of his legs, my kick not affected enough due to him moving out of the way. I tried again, this time missing.

He waited until I gave up before he got into my ear. "Your words don't matter to me…they have no power behind them… A teenager doesn't give me any scares. Saying I'm going to hell is telling me you have nothing better to say." Hearing this come from his vile mouth, I went to try to kick him again, when he finally - finally - let me free, getting out of my kick zone. Due to this, I fell on my stomach from my own backwards kick. My knees and elbows brushed against the carpet on the floor, giving me brush burns.

I grunted, casting a harsh look at Shivers who had the pleasure in giving me a sickening grin. The books that were in my hands are scattered in front of me. I sat myself up, collecting them up.

My knees and elbows are red from my sudden fall as I stood up. Turning to the man, I picked up my foot - then stomped on one of his feet.

"Yah!" A short holler like cry was let out, and I took my foot off of him. "I swear-"

"Swear what?" I challenged him.

Shivers' eyes blazed like fire. "Get physical with me again…" he began to threaten, lowering his voice. "...I will call the cops."

"I'm sorry, but you did it first," I retorted in return. "Heard about keeping your hands to yourself?" I asked, being all mocky. "It seems like it got lost in your psychotic brain."

"Nothing got lost in it, you delusional girl," he answered with irate. "I'm not the one who's missing something. It's you." He poked his finger on the band-aid, making me flinch. "You lost something. You lost respect for me, lost respect for staying out of my side of the fence."

"Did you forget that I had different reasons to disobey your stupid rule?" I claimed. "I have to give the mail that got into ours," I gave an example.

"At least you did something good." I growled, sounding like a vicious dog ready to strike from his tone in his mouth. "It's not everyday my mail gets into someone else's mailbox," he said, being harsh like he always is, like how he is with his daughter who has no mother to protect her from him. "I would be in joy if you had kept your distance away from my daughter and I."

"I wish you would stop talking nonsense. What kind of parent doesn't allow their own kid to have any friends?" Instead of waiting for an answer from him, I turned away, heading to the next genre section. Before I went there, I paused, looking over my shoulder. "A soulless being shouldn't have a kid… If her mom was still here, she would take her away from you, like how my aunt took me away from my parents and him."

Shivers' eyes flickered. "I get the feeling you're making things up…by creating a tale about your parents and whoever is him."

The anger towards him faded, the books I had been holding falling to the floor. They laid there, while one of them was open, pages facing downwards.

To what he claimed made my heart ache. A lump formed in my throat, as I swallowed, but for it to come back.

Did he actually…? My mind couldn't comprehend anything, wrapped up with what he believed.

I wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't think of any comebacks, any mean names. Nothing came. My mouth parted open, trying my hardest to what I wanted to say. While I dislike the fact of mentioning the ones I used to live with, it's worse when someone says something is made up.

My upper teeth sank into my lower lip when I was finally able to move my head down. I dared to not look at him, not caring to what he could be thinking about now.

The one person making up tales is the ghouless man who hasn't left, knowing he wouldn't go away. I wasn't sure if I should search for my aunt or go straight to the car. I don't care about having new genres of books anymore. I wanted to go. To go home.

My head still down, I spun around, and sped walk past him.

I bumped into a couple of people, who weren't too pleased about it, except I could care less. My decision is to head to my aunt's car.

I went to open the door when someone held it open. I don't say thank you to this person, for how speechless I am. I can say, even though I wasn't looking, it appeared the person - man or woman - noticed I wasn't in the mood for talking, leaving me alone.

I picked my head up, spotting the car. I went to it, opening it up.

Luckily, for some reason, a dumb reason, the car door on my side is unlocked. It also turned out the driver's side was unlocked, too. It's rare for my aunt to forget to lock the car doors. She doesn't lock the house doors, either.

I got in, slamming the door - hard. It echoed in the sky.

If we were closer to town, I would walk home. No, I would run to the secret hideout to be by myself. I thought about it, then thought it wasn't a smart idea. Besides, we haven't been living in Madison, Delaware too long to know where everything is at. All I know is where the stranded amusement park and the old house is at, including the cemetery and the high school.

Ugh…I have a deep feeling that Madison High School will suck - even though my aunt said I'll have a buddy with me.

A school buddy…yeah right… I don't want to think about going back to the horrid place. I feel like my aunt lied to me by keeping me out of school. At the same time, Hannah is right about my aunt keeping out of a place where to gain knowledge. Whenever I go back to school - due to not knowing when my aunt will work there as a Math teacher - I won't see my next door neighbor friend there. Her dad forces her to be homeschooled.

Surely he teaches her what he's going to do to her, teaching her to not make him get ticked off when he is always in a bad mood. I hadn't seen him in a jolly one.

Sounds like me, but my moods aren't bad ones, only… I searched around on my seat until I found a lever. Pulling on it, the seat leaned back to where it's almost all the way down.

The wetness of my eyes hadn't dried up as I laid down on my side, covering my face with my arms.

I stayed like that when I heard a tap on my window. I thought nothing of it until it came again, a little louder than the last one.

Using my shirt, I roughly rubbed my eyes to dry them up. Without looking at the window, I put my seat back up in its original position like the way it was. Finished, I looked out. I wanted to growl when I saw it was Shivers.

I would roll down the window, except the car isn't on. I opened my side of the car, but didn't get out of it.

He talked before I could. "Look, I…um… I apologize for what I said upset you, it's that…it's hard for me to explain why I'm this way." I stayed quiet, to let him finally tell me the truth about why he hurts Hannah and has locked up books in his study. "I have been having bad days in the last few weeks, even before you and your aunt moved into one of the houses." There he goes, lying like always. "To me…when you mention your parents and him…at first I believe it, but the more you describe me like them, the less I believe it…"

"Believe it," I snipped abruptly, causing him to shut his mouth. I grabbed the handle, pulling the door towards my way, when it won't go any further.

My eyes snapped up at my neighbor, after trying to pull the door inwards, who has a tight grip on it.

He lowered to my level, his eyes looking…red…

My body felt cold…my veins full of blood turning to ice… My heart thudded in my chest… I want my aunt to finish up, soon figuring out I'm not in the store.

I would shove him away, though I knew he wouldn't budge. I could get out, to make a run for it, except he'll more likely stop me.

Taking my hand off the handle, I put it back on my lap, keeping my eyes on my feet hidden in my shoes, listening to him speak.

"Keep giving me lip, I'll be sure to tell your aunt about your actions," he hissed. "I take back my apology. It's more likely you don't need it… it's rare for someone like myself to say sorry to someone when they indeed deserve it." I wanted him to stop, recalling events on how I would hear the familiar cold talk… "It's rare for me to forgive someone when they apologize; I'm not an easy forgiving man," he spoke hauntingly, frighteningly. "Keep it up, things will be worse for you when it comes to me."

Nothing came out of my mouth, not sure what to say. I can't pinpoint on what he means by what he basically threatened.

Rather not wanting to know, I took hold of the door when something dropped on me. I look down to see a plastic bag.

It turned out to be the books I wanted to try reading. "..." I was speechless. He's a painful jerk, yet he bought them. Baffled, I looked up at him, my mouth unable to work, to make a sound.

"You're aunt still has the other two books for the German trilogy books," he told me. "If I were you, I'd go back in there," he suggested. "She might be looking for you."

"No need to," I responded back, placing the bag in front of my seat. "I'm old enough to leave the store."

"Perhaps therapy will change your attitude," he hoped, sounding tired.

"It looks like you need to go to one - to cure your head full of bricks," I returned back. "To get you to quit being a scoundrel towards others."

"The reason I'm being a jerk is from you thinking I am one!"

"What you're saying doesn't make a lick of sense!"

"It does make sense!"

"It sure doesn't!"

"You want me to be nice to you? Stop making assumptions about me treating my only kid like dirt!"

"Explain why you don't allow her to have freedom, then!"

"I sure won't," he refused, lowering his volume. "I have told you, no one needs to know who we are…"

"Geez, I hope I can figure it out someday. I have to face the truth about not knowing your dark history from you." Shivers' eyes harden behind his glasses, not liking what I said. "I'm bound to know what is going on with you. I don't care how long it takes, I will dig up the truth about you," I undertook strongly.

"How are you going to do that? Spy on your own neighbor?" Shivers inspected.

"I did eavesdrop on you and Hannah arguing," I owned up.

"Rude to listen to someone's conversation," he more likely berated. "It could be something private no one wants anyone else to know about."

"Boy, I can think of one person who is being too private about what he doesn't want anyone else to know about him and Hannah."

Clamping his teeth together, it looked like he was fighting off a scream, as he raised back up. Letting go of the car door, he made two fists, getting me worried. He vigorously shook, his body trembling with pure rage. His face began to turn into a lava red, breathing heavily through his nostrils.

I decided it would be best to go to my aunt, wanting to get away before he struck me like he does to my friend, no matter how much he wouldn't want to come clean about it.

I lowered my head - then brought it up. My ears caught a released yelp from him when the top of my head made contact with his lower jaw, making him move back when he lowered to my level for the second time.

I may have depression, it doesn't mean I'm weak like most girls are. I have a feeling both Hannah and I have the same thing in common. He went to grab my arm, having me jump away from his gripping hand.

He rubbed his bottom jaw, more bubbling dander invading off of him.

I ran back into the bookstore, searching for my aunt. I looked behind my back to make sure he hadn't come chasing after me.

Truthfully, it would help reveal who he is. Who he definitely is. He has a talent to keep from others like my aunt about his real personality. His awful, disgusting, no-good personality.

To see he hasn't followed me, I stay on guard…waiting. I want to make sure he isn't coming back inside. However, almost part of me wanted to go after him. He's peeved off enough to swing at his daughter.

Perhaps throw the books he 'kindly' bought for her in her face. All over her.

The image of him throwing books made me think of when he was throwing objects within his own house. With his daughter screaming at him to stop…

Seeing it was safe enough, I went on looking for my aunt, finding her at the humor book section.

She isn't going to add funny stories, is she? I hadn't laughed… I don't recall the last time I had…done such a thing.

I strolled up to her when she spotted me, smiling. "I'm going to get a couple of these books…" Her eyes fell when she saw my hands empty. "Where is the first book of the German trilogy?" she asked.

"In the car…" I answered, grabbing one of the humor stories, the title reading Doctor And Son. "Shivers…um…bought them when I stormed to the car."

"Such a nice thing for him to do, but it doesn't explain why you stormed in the car without my knowledge," she replied confused. "I never knew you went to the car until now."

I thought about telling her about what Shivers had said, about the conversation both him and I had, about how I whacked my head under his jaw. I wanted to tell her what I did, except she won't be happy with me. I wish to tell her what Shivers said, though she won't believe anything I say.

"I have no clue, either," I shrugged, partially lying. "Plus, the reason why I went to the car is to get away from him," I added. "I didn't know he'd buy the books I wanted to try reading." That part was true. I expected him to leave them where they were.

He is a confusing man, I have to say. He and I hated each other, at the same time, he was free-handed enough to buy the novels I should have a shot at.

Unless I do take a knock at those books. I'm in the habit of flicking through the Goosebumps books. I hadn't read anything else.

Aunt Sarah pointed at the book I have in my hands. "You're wanting that one?"

"Comedy won't do anything," I spoke in answer, putting it back.

"Don't speak such balderdash," she disregarded gratefully. "Everyone has to have a good laugh. Besides, someone will think you're a…" I stared at her, wondering what she had to mention. "...think you're…" It looked like she's searching for the nicest word possible. "They may end up believing you're…boring." There goes the kindest word… "I'm glad you made friends with Hannah…"

"Who's dad doesn't want her to have…" I talked under my breath.

My aunt didn't hear what I muttered out, due being focused on the humor books. "It's wonderful for you to have a friend. Soon you'll have more than one."

"Uh, huh…" I plainly responded. "Are we ready to go home?" I asked a little impatiently. "We got enough books for me to read," I believed.

"Yes, we can leave," Aunt Sarah answered, after grabbing three comedy books - The Genuine Pig Diaries: My Life As An Experiment, The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest To Become the Smartest Person in the World, and Adventures of Wim - before going to the cashier to pay for them.

By the time all the books are paid and bagged up, aunt Sarah and I went to the car. I got in, shifting through the one bag Shivers had brought for me.

He is a horror neighbor, except it won't ever explain why he bought the books, the ones I dropped on the floor, for me.

I should ask him… I cannot, though. I shouldn't ask anyway. Except I should. Yet…I wasn't sure… Did he actually have enough heart to buy these? Maybe he felt guilty…?

No. No, he took back his apology. He clearly stated it's rare for him to say sorry and to forgive someone.

It makes me curious on how often he does say he's sorry to others. He only gives it to those who do need it.

I hadn't - and wouldn't - forgive anyone who made my life terrible. If they or one person says the line of an apology, I would definitely not forgive them.

It makes me curious on how often he does say he's sorry to others. He only gives it to those who do need it.

Speaking of sorry, I do need to say it to Hannah. She wasn't too thrilled when I clobbered her dad. It's something I don't understand. Her dad doesn't care for her, in spite of that, she does care for him. Like, she's pretending that her dad doesn't do anything bad to her - in which he does.

Too many secrets, no answers in any of them, from both her and her father.

I bet her dad has been questioned previously from the other places they lived. I can imagine Shivers lying to suspicious neighbors to keep them away from what goes on behind closed doors within the homes they once lived in.

I feel terrible for her. It makes me wanna murder her dad for not being a real parent.

Pulling out Jack-In-The-Box, I cracked it open to the first chapter, reading it while my aunt drove us back home.

By the time we got home, I wasn't surprised when I didn't see Shivers' car. Hm. He must be doing errands besides getting books for his daughter.

I take the opportunity to apologize to his daughter. I closed the book, taking note of where I'm at, asking my aunt to put these books up in my room, which she happily does.

Aunt Sarah went to the house while I made my way over to Shivers' home.

I brought my fist up, knocking on the door.

At first, Hannah doesn't answer the door, leaving me to knock the second time.

Nothing. A sense of worry came. I feared she wouldn't want to be my friend after what I had done to her dad. It could explain why she isn't answering.

On the other hand, she is more likely… I don't want to think about it, knowing the worst. Clutching the doorknob, I gave it a turn.

Unable to believe my eyes, the front door opened.

"Shivers must've forgotten to lock the door…" I said softly. "Luckily…no alarms are going off…" I released the knob, stepping foot into the house.

I felt like an intruder, invading this home. Pushing it aside, I called out to my friend.

"Hannah? Hey - Hannah. It's me, Ezzy." No reply came from within the house. In truth, it is a nice house. "Yo, Hannah!" I called out quietly, thinking if I spoke too loud, her eerie dad would come driving back here like a maniac.

Who am I kidding? He certainly is a maniac.

I should put in that a girl like myself doesn't kid around. Having depression, I cannot kid around with anything nor with anyone.

I checked the living room. She isn't there. I do spot a lot of thin boxes on a tall case, looking like the bookcase up in the study.

I went over to it, forgetting about Hannah for a split second, taking one of the thin boxes.

It's a movie - a horror movie - is what I'm looking at. "The Conjuring…" I studied the one I have in my hand. On the thin box is a tree with a rope with a loop hanging down tied to the branch, a house in the background. I turned it, looking at the back, reading it to myself, in my mind.

I flipped back to front of the small box, spotting something I had missed, making my eyebrows go up. "Based On The True Case Files Of The Warrens?" I questionably looked at the, I guess, tagline. "Horror movies aren't based on true events - are they?"

"They do actually." I couldn't help but to release a sudden scream, dropping what I have. I turned, seeing Hannah standing behind me a few inches back. "Horror movies are literally based on true stories," she said, going over to me.

"All of them?" I replied, watching as she picked up the movie off the floor.

"I cannot say all of them," she answered truthfully. "By that, I meant that there are scary movies that are completely fictional." She put the movie away. "You know, you shouldn't be in the house," she acknowledged. "I don't know how long my dad will be out…"

"I came to apologize…for what I did to your dad," I gave my reason for why I'm here.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she breathed out. "You shouldn't have done it in the first place." By her expression, it's difficult to tell if she's angry or disappointed. I tried to figure it out, but I couldn't. "It's like you think he's a bad father-"

"He is a bad father to you!" I proclaimed, stopping her by not letting her go on with the lie she's starting to inform. "You're acting like nothing is going on between you two!"

"Nothing is going on!" she more likely scraped back.

"Both of you are keeping secrets!" I flew my hands out. "I want to know everything about what's going on!"

"I can't tell you!" she insisted with a shout, sounding…scared.

"You can at least explain why two men got out of a book!" I recalled what had happened in the study, happening yesterday. "You can explain why 'he' cannot be out of the manuscript," I referred to when I was forced onto the floor by her.

"I won't tell you!" It looked like she was about to panic. "If I do…" she tapered off.

Feeling awful for her, I walked by her. "I should figure this all out for myself instead…"

I went upstairs to the study, stopping by the bookcase.

Now, I thought, which book should I unlock? If Shivers and Hannah don't want to tell me what the hell is going on, not wanting to admit to anything, then I have to find out for myself.

I grabbed a random manuscript - The Ghost Next Door - in my hand, then got the key. I thought that if I released another being, possibly a ghost, I'll get answers.

"DON'T!"

"Ahhh!" Like what I did downstairs, I dropped the item, key still locked in my fingers, frozen in place.

"Do not unlock m- the book!" Hannah cried out hysterically.

"Another person is going to come out of it," I told her. "You didn't panic when two men jumped out of a book, in which I want to know why."

"You don't need to know why; it's a secret," she fearfully responded.

"You can tell me the secret. Tell me all of them," I urged her. I waited, waiting a few seconds more, but she wouldn't say anything. "...guess I have to unlock it."

I picked up the book - when it got slapped out of my hand.

"No!" The book sailed across the room, hitting a wall. "You cannot unlock it, or else-"

"Or else what?" I exclaimed loudly. "Please - tell me."

"I don't want to tell you!" Her body shook like she was cold.

"You're saying that to avoid your dad locking you up."

"Y-You could say that…"

I was taken aback. "Hold on… He does lock you-"

"I won't say anymore!" She cut me off, hurrying to the book on the floor.

"Hannah, hey, does your dad actually lock you up like an animal?"

She put the book back in its place before taking the key out of my hand. "I want you to go home."

"You have to answer my question."

She shook her head. "You won't believe me."

"What makes you say that? I believe what is going on within these walls. The reason why you won't tell me is because your dad always threatens you."

"That's not it!"

"It sure is!"

"You need to go home!" She was practically flipping out at this point. Getting a hold of me, she pushed me away from the bookcase.

"Not until…" I placed my hands on her. "...you tell me the truth!"

I don't know what came over me, but I shoved her - violently.

A gasping cry was out of her mouth when she hit the desk, falling to the floor.

My frustration switched into terror. "Oh, my God, I'm sorry, I didn't-" I went to help her. "Hannah, I hadn't mean to-"

"Get away from my child!"

I gasped, spinning around, face to face with Mr. Shivers.

"How long have you been standing there?" I demanded daringly.

"Long enough to see you push my daughter," he blustered out. He stepped in, going between us, kneeling down to his daughter. "First you hit me, now you're shoving the one kid I have." His tone tells me he isn't happy, turning to my friend. "Sit up, let me check you out…"

"I know you're acting to be nice to her," I excused.

"You're acting like I don't care about her," he vented back.

"It's true!"

"If I didn't care about her-"

"She has admitted that you lock her up!"

"I lock her up in the house!"

"That is not what I'm saying!"

"Liar!" I went to Hannah, when I was pushed away, catching myself from falling backwards.

"I don't lie and I haven't lied in my life," he spoke coldly. "Unless…" he sneered. "...you want me to."

"How?"

"By making up a story…"

I stomped my foot on the floor. "You already have been making up stories about your domestic brutality."

"I don't want any of these neighbors to know about my daughter and I." I don't remove the stink eye, while this man who has this belief of being a great dad got his daughter to sit up. "So far, it has been working - unlike you - who keeps nosing in," he deeply frowned, looking over at Hannah.

"I nose in to see what is going on," I said. "I want the truth - from both of you."

"You won't get us to confess…" Shivers snickered, giving me a complacent eye.

"Don't think I can't succeed!" I let him know, dashing my way to the bookcase. I took possession of The Ghost Next Door book, the one I feel I should unlock. "Unlocking this- Yah!" My courageous attitude turned into a cry when the book got slapped out of my hand.

I didn't have time to think when I was roughly pulled out of the study, when Hannah spoke up.

"Dad - hang on." Shivers stopped by the doorway, seemingly to eye her. "She- Ezzy pushing me wasn't on…purpose…" she said sheepishly.

"Yes it was," her dad carpeted with a scowl.

"No, it's true. We…we were having an-"

"An argument?" A small laugh came from him with me letting out a growl as I tried to pull myself free from him. "You think that your friend, someone you shouldn't have, shoving you is an accident? What a riot!" he spouted gleefully, receiving a tight lip from Hannah.

"It isn't a joke…" she mumbled grimly, though her father continued to split his sides. "Quit laughing!"

Immediately, he ceased his chortle, this time giving her the look of death. "Shout at me again…" Releasing his grip from my arm, he went towards her. "...I will put you back."

Put her back…? Similar to how he threatens to lock her up… Locking up in the house isn't the answer from the…suspicion I have for him.

Hannah looked like she knew what he's talking about, watching Shivers pick up the manuscript.

"Don't unlock it!"

Her screech halted him. "Then quit fighting with me."

"Let me have some friends!"

"Hannah…!"

"What makes you think I cannot-"

"HANNAH - QUIT IT!" he thundered, scaring the daylights out of Hannah when she went to try to stand up for herself, leaving me to cover my ears from his deep, rumbling vocal cords. "I have enough of this nonsense. You have to realize-"

"No, I don't have to realize!" She tried fighting back, yet failed when her dad got the key.

"I can make you realize," he terrorized warningly.

"Don't do it!" she panicked in terror.

"Stop it!" I stepped into her defense, getting her dad to snap his gaze in my way. "I don't understand why you're threatening her with a book…"

"She knows why…right, darling?" He looked back at Hannah who gave a barely slight nod.

I was perplexed at what she understood from him. "...huh?"

A coy facial expression formed on the chilling man. "You seem to want to know what I'm talking about with my daughter…"

"I do. However, I would like to know the reason why she's terrified of that-" I pointed at the book. "-being opened up."

Putting the key and book away, his leer doesn't go away. "You aren't gonna find out; you'll end up wasting your time."

"I won't stop trying to find out," I declared with a vow.

"Haha. Here. I'll give you a hand on your mission about us two." I yowled when he swiftly got a hold of my forearm, hauling me to the stairs. "It's all you care about, too concerned about my lovely daughter," he said, grinning his creepy grin, before frowning. "It's starting to get on my nerves. For all of these years, at each town my daughter and I lived in, the neighbors would get fishy about me, leaving us no choice to have the two of us move, matter how much my darling daughter doesn't enjoy it - to keep away from the questions I want to avoid." He scowled into my face. "...And you're too stubborn to stop what you're doing..." Yanking my arm, he went on unpleasantly making me move faster, tightening his hand held grip he has on me.

"Ow!" His fingers dug into my skin. "You're going to give me a bruise. I get them easily." I did my hardest to yank free, only to give myself a sore shoulder, pulling a muscle.

I almost missed a step when he forcefully pulled me to climb down the staircase, the two of us reaching the end of it.

He made me get to the front door. "I couldn't believe I left it unlocked…" he spoke in an undertone, disappointed in himself.

"Speaking of lock doors…" I go about. "...how come you have these from indoor and out?"

"To make sure my daughter won't go outside," he answered gravely. "Locking it from the inside, it keeps you out, locking it from the outside, it keeps her indoors." He aimed a pointed finger at Hannah who followed us, looking away. "If those security alarms hadn't been snipped, I would have known you were here, but leaving the door open more likely gave me the answer that it was you."

I wanna strike a fist at him like I did before…this time to his mouth to break off his teeth to give him difficulty to talk.

Pulling hard, I was able to get free, resulting in myself falling to the floor.

My head barely missed the table against the wall.

Seething with rage, I got up, now wanting to smash him again. He needs to feel what it's like to get beaten.

Like he read my mind, Shivers stood up straight, dominating. "Hit me. Go ahead." I don't like the provoke words he's giving out, making me shake with anger. "Go on, do it," he carried on defiantly

"I wouldn't do it again if I were you, Ezzy," my friend made aware of the situation.

Her father looked behind him. "You keep quiet, I'll handle this." His order got her to close her mouth when she was about to say more.

She gave her dad a scowl. "I'm not going to stop talking. I'm done with you keeping me from making any friends."

Shivers spun around, stomping over to her. "Listen here, young lady…you don't dare argue with me…"

"I wasn't trying to argue with you. I want to be a regular person like everyone else."

"You aren't a regular person - neither am I." Not a regular person…? "Keep it up and you know what happens next."

"I don't want that!"

"Then knock it off!"

"I want you to be open-minded about this, close-headed piece of garbage!" A heaving breath was sucked in, Hannah covering her mouth, eyes full of remorse. "Dad…I'm…"

"Close–headed piece of garbage? Is this what you see me as, sweetheart?"

"N…no… I..I.. Dad, you know I… I…" I remained where I was, helplessly as Hannah made her best effort to keep her dad from aggressively yelling at her, stumbling with her words. "I don't mean to-" A high pitch squeal was replaced when her dad snatched her wrist, being heaved up the steps, her attempts to break free faltering. "Dad - let go! I'm sorry. I-"

"I'll show you who's close-headed," Shivers said menacingly.

"Excuse me," I uttered suddenly. "Did you forget someone?" I informed him in a hostile mindset.

"I'll deal with you after I'm done with her." The way he said it gave me the heebie jeebies. I already knew what's going to happen to her. "Let's go," he directed towards her, paying no attention to her frequent pulling. His fingers tightened…

Hannah yelped, getting yanked by him. I watched as she tried used her free hand to use her free to get her das to release his grip on her. "I don't want to go back!" Go back? "No! No! No!"

"Stop!" I couldn't take it anymore, seeing they were half way up. Instantly, I ran up the steps - then released a hard kick.

"Yah!" My kick made contact with the back of his left knee, except he didn't let go of Hannah. He gave me a firm shove.

I stumbled backwards, grabbing the railing for support, almost falling to my knees.

Shivers glared down at me over his daughter who continued her best to get out of his grasp, while I gave him a sharp eye back.

He took his gaze off in my way, then went straight away what he was doing, forcibly bringing his teenage girl up the stairs until they reached the landing, getting out of my eyesight.

I bounded up the steps, my ears catching the sound of a door slamming - loudly slamming.

Stopping at the landing, I breathed heavily, rage filling in of how much coldness I have for the man who treats his daughter like everyday dirt.

The dirt is him, to be exact.

I got my legs to move, going to the study to find the door closed.

Taking the doorknob, I go to turn it - to discover it was locked. "Wha…?" I jiggled the doorknob.

Nothing. I pressed my ear against the door, listening to Hannah's muffled outcries.

"I don't want to go back in, please don't." There was begging, mixed with a tearful voice. Confused, I went on listening in. "You cannot put me back. I don't want to be shut in." Shut in…? Locked up!

Hold the phone… in this room? Is there a secret doorway within this home?

"You leave me with no choice," I heard her dad say with wrathe. "Maybe doing this to you will teach you about not having any friends to play with," he hoped.

"I'm sixteen, I don't 'play' like a little kid would do. Putting me back isn't going to change any-"

"It sure will change anything - by giving you a lesson by not hanging out with that Ezzy girl. I'm lucky it wasn't a boy."

"What if the next people have a son moving into the other empty house that's for sale?"

"Like I mentioned before, I'll be sure to have him stay away from you - from both of us - if it's a guy. 'Sides, no daughter of mine isn't going to have a date with a random boy. It's one of the reasons I kept you homeschooled."

A sound came, and I believe it was her stomping her foot. "When can I actually have a boyfriend?"

"When I am dead," Shivers answered. "Plus three days, to make sure I am dead," he added.

"Funny…considering that you'll keep me away from everyone after you aren't around anymore…"

"It doesn't matter; you shouldn't be around anyone because they may ask why-"

"I want to be like everybody else in this world!" Hannah lifted up her voice. "I want you to be like everybody else, too, instead of remaining inside everyday and night."

"Hannah!"

"I want to have- DON'T!" I got jump-scared when I heard her scream in a scream I never heard before, sounding like the ones you hear in horror movies. "Put it back! PUT IT- I don't-! DON'T DO- AHHHHH!"

What's happening inside there?! It sounded like she's being murdered!

And why was she screaming at him to 'put it back'?

Before I could yell, the door was unlocked, having myself fall on the floor on my stomach.

I swiftly got up, looking around frantically. "Where is she!?" I burst out with pique. She isn't in the study room…

"You don't have to know where she is," Shivers gave a mirthless smile.

"I want to know what happened to her!" I shouted out, beginning to get scared of the worse, already knowing where she was.

He laughed, taking me by the hand. "You poor thing," he said in a fake baby talk. "Too worried about my beloved princess."

"Quit talking to me like I'm a two year old. I want to know what you did to her."

"There's no need for you to know…" He pulled me down the stairs to the front door. Letting go of my hand, he gave me a rough push out on the porch. "Don't worry about it." He messed my hair, keeping on his sneer. "I'm a good dad to her. Ta-ta."

I didn't get a chance to respond when he shut and locked the door.

"Hey!" I raged out, banging the door. "You better tell me what you did to her, you 'wonderful' dad. If you are a good - a great father - to her, she wouldn't be screaming bloody murder. I know for the fact you are mistreat-"

RU-BANG! A loud sound erupted from the other side of the door, making me scream out in shock of how loud it was.

"Get off my porch! Get out of my yard! Stay on your side of the fence! Don't come back here! Leave us alone! Keep your distance away from us! The more you bug us, the more I want to call the police on you for trespassing! No one is allowed in my home! Remember!? NO ONE! No person isn't going to know what is going on - including you! Get lost!"

"Hannah is going to let-"

"She isn't allowed to let anyone in the house; she knows that! Now, if you excuse me, I got to go chat with her."

The yelling stopped, being replaced by footsteps when he got away from the front door. I stayed where I was for a minute, like I was waiting for him to come back.

I let out a loose breath, the feeling of sorrow filling in. I spun, leaving the yard to my house.

Aunt Sarah was in the living room, reading her book, the same one before we left to get new books for me.

I made no attempt to tell her if Hannah forgave me or not.

I hope she did…

I trudge up to my room, pulling out my phone. I actually had it in the pocket of my pants when I left the house to the secret hideout.

I checked the battery, seeing it was low. Deciding on not wanting to waste anymore battery, I went to my room, plugged in my phone, and let it fill up my battery.

To be fair, I'm not used to having it - my phone. It's gonna take some time, though.

I set it down, thinking about texting my friend to see if she's okay.

Of course, she's okay, a strong voice within my head spoke out. She has a strong soul. Nothing scares her.

…except she's terrified of her dad… I'm terrified of him, too.

I was fearing for her. I'm her only friend she has thus far. There are secrets in the house next door. Secrets I need to know… Mysterious - scary - secrets…

Picking up my phone, I made the decision to text her.

Are you alright? I sent it to her, expecting a quick response.

A minute went by… Then two minutes… Then three minutes… More minutes went by.

No answer.

Maybe…I can call her…? I'm not sure… I feel comfortable with texting.

I debated it. Wait for her to return my message or call.

I went on my Contacts app, tapping on her name.

I saw the call option. My finger was inches from it. What if her dad answered instead?

"Come on," I urged to myself. "Call her. Call her to see if she's okay." My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest, my forehead getting wet. The idea of my forehead sweating is going to start making the band-aid slip off.

Using the front part of my shirt, I swiped the moisture off the front part of my head, flinching when I made contact with the band-aid. The cut there will more likely be sore for a couple of days.

The wetness gone, I swiftly tapped on the call option, bringing my phone to my ear.

It rings…and rings…and rings… I couldn't get my heart to slow down. I wasn't sure, but I have a lingering feeling in the pit of my stomach that Hannah may not pick up my call.

But she has to, I told myself in my head. Her dad wouldn't-

"Who is this?" My finished thought was sliced off clean when I heard nothing of her, the voice belonging to her sinister dad… "My daughter isn't allowed to have any other contacts except mine," he continued to speak, making me unable to say anything. My mouth felt dry like a cotton ball. "Tell me- actually, let me look instead." I gotta say something… "How did my daughter get your number?!" he exclaimed in an offhand manner.

"...I…" I swallowed, forcing the dry feeling in my mouth to go away. "I gave her my number, she gave me hers," I said, making sure to sound unafraid at the best of my ability.

"SHE GAVE YOU HER NUMBER?!" I quickly moved my cell phone away from my ear when he let out a painful, deaf-dyfting, high-pitched screech, sounding like he swallowed nails. "She's forbidden to give anyone her personal number! I gave her that phone to check up on her!"

"You're being a helicopter parent." I brought the phone back to my ear when his volume went down. "I explained to her what it means; the difference between a pushy parent to the one you're being. Helicopter parenting is a type of child abuse."

"If I'm 'abusing' her…" Shivers began, his voice putting in quotation marks from the way he stated the word he's avoiding. "...then how come I made sure she's okay after you shoved her? Checking on a kid to see if they're hurt or not isn't child abuse, I have to say," he tried to lie strongly, leaving me to roll my eyes at it. "She's the one person I have. Yet, she is refusing to understand-"

"Understand what?" I pushed out.

There was heavy breathing, like he was trying to calm down to keep himself from erupting like he's always been doing. "...you have no right to know what's going on in my home…" I want to punch this man again… "Whenever, however, I hope this doesn't happen like it did many times, if something bad happens…" There was a long pause, him quiet enough that I had to chop it.

"...Are you still there?"

"Keep away from my daughter and I," he ended up finishing up this discussion.

Click.

I growled under my breath. "Such a-" I grumbled gibberish, ranting nonsense. "I want to rip his hair off of his scalp…" I kept going, making sure I didn't shout to keep aunt Sarah from hearing what I'm saying. "Keep away from my daughter and I…" I seemed to mock. "No, how about you be a dad by letting your daughter have freedom from being a prisoner in her…" I stopped. "Like it did many times? Something bad happens?" I jiggled those in my head.

The thing I know that something bad is happening is this man being a monster towards Hannah. It doesn't matter how much he's denying it, it doesn't matter how much his daughter is keeping the truth from me. I will find out, no matter how long it'll take.

I went to call her again - except there was nothing. No ring tone.

I tried again. Nothing. I tried texting, sending it to her.

I waited for her to return a message. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach when there wasn't one. Not a single one…

Setting my phone down on my night table, my eyes dropped to my new books by my bookcase inside the bag.

I went over to the bag, taking a hold of it. Bringing it to my bed, I shook it, all the books falling on my mattress. A couple of them tumbled off of it, landing flatly on the floor. I bend down on my knees, picking them up.

"It's going to take time for myself to read different book genres," I said, looking at each book, my eyes on the one I was reading on the way back. I picked up the book, the skull on the spring from the jack-in-the-box appearing to watch me. "Horror, romance, and fantasy are a good start." I took a hold of Matters Of The Heart - the one romance book I have in my book collection. I set it down, replacing it with the second German trilogy known as Sapphire Blue.

All the artwork on these book covers look great, though the scary books are better in my strongest opinion.

I placed the book down, going through each one, when I saw there wasn't any Stephen King books within the rest of these novels.

He couldn't stand him, deciding not to get those books for me, I figured out. It's plain to see he also doesn't want me to read those books by a writer he doesn't like.

I felt like there's more than him hating another writer's writing skills. Topping it off, he did previously said to my aunt about the authors he wouldn't bear with. I get how everyone - by everyone, I'm talking about bookworms - have a specific author they enjoy or loathe. Personally, I don't have one I cannot stand since the writer I know is R.L. Stine.

No matter how much I think about it, he's a huge secret to himself...like how I keep to myself... with the exception of my neighbor's daughter who couldn't have friends.

It makes me wonder how many times her abusive dad punishment her for her trying to be friends before coming across someone like who doesn't belong in this world... It's probably another reason why they have to move a lot...

I pray that they won't move again... worried for Hannah's sake...

I rechecked my phone for a response from her, seeing only my message. I don't want to think about it, however, I'm beginning to suspect her dad either deleted my phone number or took her phone for who knows how long.

I may have to ask her when we both go to the broken down amusement park... Sigh...

Collecting up my new books, leaving Jack-In-The-Box on the blanket, I lazily set them on my bookcase on the bottom shelf, due to no room left.

I should start thinking about getting another bookcase...or simple shelves to put on my plain walls. I don't have a lot of stuff in here, anyway. A second bookcase could fit in here. Maybe...

Going to the page I recalled being on, I went into reading mode, laying back down, my head on my, my body on top of my covers. Admittedly, the book is...pretty good from the start of it - despite from me just getting into it.

Hm... I guess I should get more new novels to read - any novel that catches my eye.

Reading different genres is something I should do, rather than stick to one series with one author.

R.L. Stine...

Setting my book on my stomach, I peered up at the ceiling, pondering about him.

Curiosity kicked in harder, my mind wanting to know what actually did happened to him. Picking myself up from my pillow, I set my open book on it's pages, wishing I'd got a bookmark to mark my place instead of using my memory to know where to stopped at, taking my phone, entering onto Google.

On the search bar, I typed on the app keyboard, typing in: What happened to R.L. Stine? Then I tapped on enter after finishing it.

Pages came up. I went through the first one, reading it in my head.

R.L. Stine, also known as Robert Lawrence Stine, was the creator for his hit book series Goosebumps, along with Point Horror, the Fear Street series, Mostly Ghostly, The Nightmare Room series... Hang on. He wrote other book series? I have to tell Hannah about this tonight when I see her - Including asking her if her phone got taken away by her ruthless dad. I carried on reading the article. ...And many others. Stine was a mysterious man, who always kept to himself from the real world. No one knows his backstory. No one knows his birthday, where he first lived at.

He became a writer in his younger years, probably in his teen or early adult years, who knows. He started off with his first horror book - Blind Date with the name R.L. Stine, working with Scholastic.

The book turned out to be a big hit, readers wanting more books from him.

He did. He wrote more scary books, then, he wrote a series called Goosebumps. Those books got popular, more than his other book series.

Fans of his would want to write letters to him, want to follow him on social media platforms. One problem for this: He doesn't reveal himself to no one, wanting to stay secretive from society. This could explain why no one knows his origin story.

Years went on, nobody seeing him. He wasn't at book signings. Fans wanted to meet him, except for there was no chance. He was... mysterious...

Despite this, it wouldn't stop anyone to read his stories. Every month, a new book would be released instead of every year, for his fans to enjoy.

Kids, teens, adults, everyone loved them. They loved him.

Until... something happened... No new books were being released. Theories came. Some say he retired from his writing career. Some say he vanished without a trace.

To this day, no one will know what truly happened to him...

At the end of the article, I went onto different links, though they said the same thing.

Vanished without a trace... It puzzled me for a bit. I don't get why a writer would simply... vanish. I know writers die. No one can live forever - unless they committed suicide.

No offense to those who are having those thoughts of it, including the ones who already did.

Sorry to say this, if you're someone who looks down at someone who has or already done the deed of...killing themselves, you should be ashamed for it doesn't make you human.

Gotta get that off my chest.

I placed my phone down, taking possession of my novel, going through each page at a time.

Reading always helps me forget things - awful things.

The thought of going to therapy tomorrow is making me nervous. It was...getting me sick to my stomach.

I felt like I needed to empty out my stomach - like how it happened in front of my friend, despite not having a choice.

It's embarrassing to think something gross like that.

However, I refused to leave my comfort of my bed, curling up in a ball, grasping the book with one hand.

Relax...chill...breathe... Something my original therapist would instruct whenever I came to explain my nerves or panic attacks.

It was the one thing that worked, nothing else during those appointments.

"I shouldn't have thrown out those pills," I regretted miserably, knowing how dumb it was when I think about it now. "Perhaps I'll get better ones."

The flip-flops inside my stomach subsided. I got off my bed, leaving my book behind. I checked the battery, seeing it was at ninety-eight percent.

It's enough for me. I unplugged it, stuffing the phone in my pocket, making my way out of my room, down the stairs.

I let my aunt know where I'm heading off before going outside in the dark with a bright full moon in the sky.

It was breathtaking...

I wasn't sure about going to the old, rickety house on my own, yet I didn't want to knock on Shivers door to see if...

Hannah prefers cloudy nights, I remembered. It's something I don't understand.

I know I've been to that abandoned house by myself, yet I prefer to have Hannah with me.

Hannah... I hope she's okay. She still hasn't responded to my message.

Deciding to sneak over onto Shivers' property, I did just that.

I crept over there, making my way on the porch, my ears catching his voice, sounding...kind?

"What movie should we watch?" I heard him ask gently.

I walked closer to the house, hearing, "Let's watch Annabelle."

Hannah...?

I got on the porch, this time hearing a chuckle. "You sure about it? It gave you nightmares the last time we watched it," I kept on listening to a voice from the man that doesn't sound like him, though it was him.

Huh?

I creeped my way, finding the window of the living room, the window about three inches open, the curtains slightly out of my way. It was enough for me to see inside. At the same time, they wouldn't see me - especially fake nice Shivers.

Or...was Hannah right? About him being a nice guy?

"It's been a year the last time I had them," Hannah said smiling, as I saw her on the couch with a bowl - a large bowl - of popcorn on her lap. Lots of popcorn for both her and her dad. "It'll be fun to watch movies by Stephen King's novels," she wished, a slight frown replacing her grin. "Even though I'm not allowed to read his books, something you won't explain to me..."

"Hannah..." Her dad's tone went down in warning.

She lowered her head. "Sorry, I had to get it out. Thanks for the new books you got me."

"No problem, sweetie," he replied, sounding...non evil. Tilting my head, I squinted my eyes at this...different behavior. "I should thank you, too, for the book you got me. I would like where you got it from."

She hesitated for a minute. "It was Ezzy's..." From where I was, I didn't miss the fierce gaze from her dad. "She was getting rid of it, telling me she doesn't want it anymore," she quickly put in.

"She..." He paused, shaking his head. "...how kind of her..." he talked lowly.

"It's hard to tell if you... meant it..."

"Sort of..."

"In other words, you still hate her guts."

"I don't hate her, Hannah. I hate how she keeps bothering us, especially me."

"Dad..."

A change in attitude from him made her stop when her dad put the movie in. He sat next to her on the couch, putting his arm around her. "Forget about her. It's a movie night."

Hannah laughed. "We watch movies - scary movies - almost every night," she stated.

"I can't argue with you there." I saw him take some popcorn. "It's better to watch them at night than daylight."

"For sure," she agreed upbeat.

During this, I was utterly confused at what I saw. Whenever I'm with her, when we see her dad, he gets all furious when he sees her. Seeing this, he's a totally new guy.

But he told her to forget about me. As if he wanted her to...

"I wish you hadn't gotten rid of Ezzy's contact number..."

My eyebrows went up, then lowered, peeved.

"Hannah..." Shivers apprised. "You aren't allowed to have any other phone numbers other than mine," he told her, sounding like he had this conversation with her about this a thousand times.

She shrugged in disheartenment. "...same with social media... I have told you I know how to tell from a creep or not."

"I'm not risking any chances." I saw him pick up the remote, pushing down a button to play the movie.

"You're thinking some weird person will... send something inappropriate..." she said, picking at the popcorn.

"Explaining why you aren't allowed to have to any sort of social media platform on your phone."

I honestly want to go in there and force him to quit pretending to be nice to her. He's doing it for an excuse to not lock her up - in chains and cuffs in a cage like a filthy animal.

A soft exhale left Hannah's mouth, taking a piece of popcorn out of the bowl. Her dad took noticed, taking it off her lap.

"Look-"

"I want to have friends..."

The softness in his eyes harden. "Bring the 'I want to have friends' conversation then we aren't watching this movie."

"I-" She gave up, tossing the popcorn she had back in the bowl, standing up from the couch. "You can watch it; I'm going to my room."

Shivers sighed wearily. "Sweetheart..."

Hannah went away, leaving him there by himself on the couch.

From where I was, I thought I saw a look of... depression. It could be my eyes playing tricks on me; he will always be a horrible man, neighbor in the universe.

On the other hand...I want to know why he said he doesn't hate me, only my guts for I, in his words, keep on bothering him.

No, he, in reality, does hate me, in no degree for my guts.

Or...does he repel everyone? Well, he and aunt Sarah get along. For all I know, what I can hypothesize, it could be certain people he's fine with.

I should talk to Hannah about this...

Making my way off the porch quietly, I went to her bedroom window, recalling how I broke it with my ball.

Getting there, I was taken aback when I saw a replacement window, unsure when her dad got a new one.

Doesn't matter, anyway; it's talk time.

Spotting my surroundings, I saw some little stones right by the fence - when I heard the front door open, having me take a quick peek, seeing Shivers.

Alarmed, I search somewhere to hide, seeing a bush - a rose bush - a couple of feet away from me.

Without thinking, I ran over there - then went into the plant.

I flinched when the thorns pricked my skin. "Ow..." I silently mouthed. "What a smart person I am..." I praised in rancor.

I was about to scold myself; instantly when my ears caught Shivers' voice.

"Who's out on my property?" I kept my mouth shut, trying not to move in my not-so-good hiding place. "Ezzy, if it's you...come out wherever you are. I will tell your aunt you're bugging us," he forewarned, as I saw him 'round the house. The thorns of this plant were beginning to bother me more, and if that wasn't enough, some of my hair went in front half of my face, covering my left eye.

I moved my hand - then brought it to my stomach when the needle thorns brushed the top of it accidentally.

I sucked in a breath, biting my bottom lip tightly, fearing I'll cut it open with my upper teeth.

Inhaling, removing my teeth off my lower lip, which is now throbbing, but not bleeding from my own forceful bite, I checked out my upper part of my hand.

Four, thin red, scratches are on it. Thankfully, it wasn't bleeding. I was slightly annoyed with myself. I already have a scar on my neck from my childhood, then I got a cut on my forehead, and now I got stupid scratch marks.

I need to quit hurting myself. Even though I wasn't doing intentionally. The ones who hurt me were from my old home in Maryland.

I shook my head instead to move on hair out of my eye, regaining the rest of my eye sight.

Hiding in continuous, I saw Shivers rubbing his eyes. "Ezzy..." He sounded like he wasn't in the mood anymore. "...I know you and I don't get along..." Ya think, dimwitted peice of rot? "...but I will appreciate it if you get out of your hiding spot."

Like I will. I'm waiting for you to get back inside. Of course, when I think about it, he'll end up hearing the small stones I want to use to get his daughter's attention.

Shivers moved, nearing the bush I'm in. "It's late... I'm pretty sure you're aunt won't allow you out here after dark." She does because she doesn't lock me up like you do to Hannah. "I'll make a deal with you." The words almost surprised me. "You stay away from my daughter and I...then I won't tell on your aunt."

Pch...no way am I agreeing with it. Besides, he had already ordered me to stay away from them, especially Hannah, since aunt Sarah and I moved in this boring town. And it wasn't a month yet!

As I did my best to not keep moving, something tickled on my right leg.

At first, I thought it was my skin doing it, scratching at it.

I felt it again. Looking down, I choked in a breath - and screamed.

"Yahhhhhh!" I stood up - great move - tumbling out of the bush, getting scratches by the thorns, when I saw huge hairy spider on me. "Get off! Get off! Get...off!" I frantically shook the one leg the spider is latched onto. It held on with its spindly legs, freaking me out more.

In a panic, I grabbed the gross thing with my fingers - chucking it across the yard that isn't mine.

Shaken up, I went to see if I was bitten. I hate spiders; they're my phobia.

"Gotcha!" I let out a cry, feeling someone grab me, quickly noting it was Shivers. "Now, you better-"

"Let me go!" I howled, trying to free myself from his arms.

"Shhh!" he hissed. "People will think I'm trying to murder you."

"I actually wanted them to see you kill me - like how you treat your daughter," I admitted strongly. "In which, by the way, I need to know how - how! - did your daughter reappear. She wasn't in the study anymore after she was screaming, then I see you and her watching a movie together like a good dad should be."

"Well," he began, "for one thing, you should know after spying on us - again - she and I watch scary movies almost every night. For her reappearing..." I went on with my attempts to free myself from his grasp whislt he sniggered. "...it's something I cannot let it slip out."

"I want you to slip out your nasty secrets." I twisted my body, using my elbow to jab him deeply in his ribs. The move got him to release his hold, letting out a yawp, holding his ribcage, seething. "It's not only your secrets I want to know, it's also Hannah's. I know she wouldn't want to admit one of them, but I know-"

"You know nothing about it us," he voiced malevolently. "You have no idea what-"

I stomped my foot, busting in. "I have the right to know!"

"No, you don't!" he shouted back.

"Keeping her inside, for you to hurt her, is a red flag - a huge red-"

"I'm not hurting my own daughter!" His distress was violent enough to make my heart stop for a split second, though I maintain my composure. "How many times do I have to say it?! You refuse to let it go through your thick skull!"

"The thick skull someone has is you." I pointed in his face, making him more furious.

He was seething heavily, his teeth tightly gnashing against one another, the veins of his eyes rigorously showing.

It makes me wonder if this what Hannah sees everyday...before the violent attacks are unleashed onto her... Like what happened in the study where the locked books are at.

The terrified shrills are ringing in my ears from her shrill, panicked voice.

I, however, wanted an explanation for why she wasn't in there before I saw her again, like she hadn't disappeared, at all.

Lifting up his hand, he placed it on his eyes, doing his best to ease down his temper. "I don't want to have another fight with you..." he began slowly, while I stood there with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm having arguments - not all the time - with my daughter... I don't want anymore from someone else who doesn't respect my wishes..."

"Wishes," I repeated, my fury matching his. "Here's a wish I want: I want the both of you to-"

"We aren't going to!" he yelled in the night. "God! It's all you think about," he complained gratefully.

"I have to keep thinking ab-" He cut me again.

"Quit thinking about it; you aren't going to know about what goes on beyond this house." He swung a hand behind him at his large home.

I curled my fingers inwards, creating two fists. "You know, you are such a stupid being in the entire world. Stupid humans don't want to admit anything, like you do. You have the nerve to act like a nice father, pretending to be-"

"My word, I'm not pretending to be a nice dad." His face was contorted with pure disgruntlement. "I've been taking care of my daughter for years-"

"After you killed your wife, her mother, someone she could've have to protect her from you?" I tossed in. "Her mom would be a better person than you," I pointed my finger in his face.

"No one is better than anybody," he spoke, wanting this conversation we've been doing since I arrived at this neighborhood to end. "I'm not dumb, either. The one who is being stupid is the person who hasn't learned her lesson," he included.

I folded my arms. "Hannah is going to keep up about not learning her lesson."

"Not her, you." I had to take a step back when his finger jabbed into my face. "You are the one refusing to learn to what I told you to do - to stay on your side of the fence."

My teeth pressed tightly than ever before to where I thought they'll snap off my gums. The loathe for this disgusting man before me began to rise, the way he is, the way he treats my friend like some kind of object, no matter how much he denies it. He is like my parents, especially one of them.

The anger kept building up, my breathing heavy. I'm sick of of him telling - ordering - me to stay on my side of the fence.

With teeth still together, I spoke through them. "I don't want to learn my lesson... I want to know what the hell is going on..."

Shivers stepped into my personal space, leading myself to take a misstep back, tripping over my own feet.

Grunting, I was sitting down on the grass, my hatred for him not leaving.

Getting to my level, his eyes cut into mine. "You will not know what is happening within my home at any under circumstances. There's nothing for you to know."

"You say that to cover up your repulsive traits!" I cried, using both hands to push him away by the time I stood back up.

He yelled back, louder than me. "I don't have any repulsive traits!"

"Yes, you do, you one hundred percent have traits you have of how an uncaring dad you are!"

"I love my-"

"No, you don't. Not after when I heard her screaming in the study!"

"It's none of your beeswax to know what I did with her!"

"Then how did she reappear!?" I shouted loudly, almost sounding desperate.

"None of your beeswax," he repeated grimly. "Keep this up, I-"

"...Dad...?" The two of us removed our glares at one another to see Hannah cautiously going up to him.

He wasted no time to give out his command. "Get back in the house this instant."

"No," she deselected from the order. "I want you-" She hadn't gotten to finish what she was about to say when her dad hurried over, grasping onto her wrist with his right hand. "Dad-"

He leaned towards her, forcing her to shut her lips. "Go back in the house, else I'll have to repeat what I done with you..." He released his grip, Hannah frightened by his torment, backing up from her parent. Warily, she turned around once she is far enough from him, walking back in the house like a robot without oil.

The sound of the front door opened and closed indicated Shivers that she was inside, leaving him to sigh of relief. He rubbed his forehead like he was having a headache, eyes closed, murmuring something I wasn't able to pick up on. Though, I asked anyway with no holding off.

"Mind wanting to say what you were mumbling about, hm?"

Shivers stopped messaging his forehead, sending an icy stare. "...leave us alone..." he ignored gruffly. "Quit bothering us."

Agitated, I went towards him at a fast pace, ready to strike him with my fist - when he grasped it in a swift motion.

My fury turned into pain when I realized it was my scratched up hand. A small noise lifted from my throat, feeling his fingers tightening on the injury besides the fact the scratches aren't bleeding, they are painful enough to unable to hide it.

I bit my tongue to keep myself from screaming.

"You aren't going to hit me again." I tried to pull my hand out of his. "Do it, then you'll be in trouble - understand?" The way he said it shot a short chill from my shoulders, making me shudder. Letting me free, I shook my hand.

"I hate you!" I yelled, rubbing my hand after shaking the pain away.

Shivers lips tightened. "I would say the same thing. Although, what I actually hate is you pestering my daughter and I - substantially my daughter. Keep away from me..." He motioned a hand to himself then at his home. "...and don't you dare be friends with my daughter."

"You shouldn't be-"

"Yes, I can," he cut in. "Then when I saw your contact number, I ended up getting rid of it, something you know all thanks to your spying."

"You shouldn't have done what you did!" I exclaimed, my volume at a high pitch.

"I'm an adult, so I'm allowed to delete your phone number off of Hannah's!" he said. "Now, go back on your side of the fence," he waved me away in an ordering way.

I talked back. "You're not one of my parents who I feared the most."

"Go back," he proceeded to push through his teeth.

Breathing out, the fiery I have for him dissipated when my oppressed reappeared. Slacking my shoulders, I made my way back to my house, not wanting to go to the old, forgotten place Hannah and I discovered.

I saw Shivers following, making sure I was off his yard.

Out of his yard, I watched him go to his front door, keeping his eyes on me like a hawk, eerily going back inside, the sound of the same lock clicking after he shut it firmly.

Sighing with a shake of my head, I went back to my house in time for dinner, heading to the kitchen to see my aunt using a ladle to tomatoe soup in a bowl with a plate of two hot, sliced grilled cheese sandwiches on a plate.

I picked up mine. The smell of soup and cheese invading my nose.

Aunt Sarah went to the table with me behind her, sitting down as I did the same.

I picked up my spoon, yet, I didn't eat, swirling the liquid with it.

My aunt swallowed a bite of her own grilled cheese sandwich. "You aren't eating," she noticed, a hint of concern in her voice. "Like I always said, you're going to get mood swings by not eating," she reminded.

I shrugged. "I'm not hungry..." I guessed sorrowfully, lifting my spoon to see some of the soup on it, topping it to the side to let it go back with rest with a little splish. "I didn't go to where I wanted to go. I..." I paused, pushing my food away. "...Shivers took my number off of Hannah's phone," I informed her, catching a look of genuinely stumped look on her expression. "I went to her house to apologize what I did...we got into an argument..."

"An argument?" Worried was replaced on her, a hand over her mouth. "What were you two fighting about?"

"Nothing, it's something stupid. I did push her," I admittedly said, getting a bit uncomfortable of what I did, my aunt listening. "Her dad saw it considering I was in his house - the front door not locked. Hannah and I were in the study room for what I did. She tried to tell her dad what I did wasn't on purpose, her dad got mad as he was taking me back to the door. She ended saying something regretful to him, then..." I let out some air from my mouth before going on. "...her dad took her back upstairs. I...I tried to stop him... except..."

I was canceled out when aunt Sarah rubbed her eyes, this time the worry moving away, knowing off the bat at the feeling she is having this time. "Shivers isn't hurting..."

"Then explain why I didn't see Hannah in the study room...!" I comparatively hollered. "When he opened the door of the study - poof - she's gone, and when I went back, this time to see if she's hurt, I saw her in the living room with a disguised Shivers acting nice to her. Something is going on the house next to us, aunt Sarah, I know it." I was straining out what I was saying. "Those two are keeping secrets. I can't stand secrets."

She kept rubbing her eyes. "Nothing is going on next door; they were simply having an argument," she denied at my protest. "Hannah doesn't vanish in thin air like a ghost does," she told me, moving her hand away from her when her eyes stopped at my new injury. "Why is your hand scratched up?"

I covered my injury with my non injured hand. "I was hiding in Shivers' rosebush..."

She doesn't reply, her face solemn, pushing the bowl and plate back to me, gesturing me to eat.

Aunt Sarah is someone you don't want to argue about when it comes to eating. It's too important for her, something I wouldn't fight about with her.

Deciding not to talk about our horrible neighbor, I ate - slowly - chewing on my sandwich with the taste of the melted cheese taking over my taste buds, dipping it in my soup for my flavor.

I asked her what time I'm going to my therapy tomorrow, then let out a small groan when she said first thing in the morning.

"Make sure you tell everything about your problem, no leaving anything out," she said.

I nodded in answer. Finishing up, I went back to my room after putting the dishes in the sink.

I saw the book I was reading at the same spot I left it at. Putting it with the others, I got ready for bed.

Changing into my nightgown that reached my ankles, I plugged in my phone, went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, made my way back to my bedroom, and by the time I landed on my bed, I crashed into a deep sleep.