THREE

He looked up immediately, wondering if it was Jeremy coming to finish him up. The unsmiling face of Nicole greeted him and his heart began to thud violently as he contemplated running her over or speaking with her. 

He came out of his car finally; his eyes glancing around in search of Jeremy. 

"Hi, Nicole!" He greeted non enthusiastically and her frown deepened. 

"You were going to leave without me?" A brow raised as she folded her arms.

"How do you do that?" He tried to joke, pointing at her perfectly raised brow but his grin disappeared when she slapped his finger away, shooting him a dirty glare.

He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead in exhaustion.   She sure didn't deserve to be treated that way. She had done nothing but care and love him. Would he throw this one person away because of a stupid jerk? 

"I'm sorry." He sighed, looking down at his feet.

"Look at me!" Nicole commanded and he did so. Her eyes narrowed as she examined his face.

"What happened to you?" She held his chin. 

Instinctively, he glanced around before shaking his head. "Nothing. I ran into a wall while operating my phone. I wasn't looking." He laughed awkwardly.

"Clumsy." She smiled then, tugging at his cheek and shaking her head. "I have to go back in. I still have some unfinished business to do.  I'll call you,  okay?" 

He nodded and watched her head back to the company's building. He rubbed his forehead, feeling sad he had lied to her. This was the moment he needed his bed badly - the soft fluffy material was his comfort. 

Driving out of the parking lot, he hoped he wouldn't have any more issue when next he saw Jeremy.

His drive home was quiet and he finally got into his compound after a drive of about thirty minutes. He hurried into his house, dumping his keys on the wooden table at the center of his dark room. Taking the stairs up, he threw his briefcase to the side of the wall - its content pouring out. He was exhausted so he tugged at his perfectly knotted tie, battling with it for a while before the slim fabric gave way.   

Finally naked, he dashed into the bathroom to have a cold shower. The feel of water trickling down his skin sent shiver down his spin and he shut his eyes, letting water caress every part of his body. Sighing in contentment, he wrapped his towel around his waist, padding back into his room and cladding himself in his pyjamas. 

He took the stairs down to the kitchen; the knowledge of the next day being a weekend making him dance a bit in happiness.  

He rummaged through his cupboard, hoping to find something to eat. His eyes caught the pack of cereals so he settled on one of the stools to do justice to his food. 

It was clear he would miss his house when he finally relocated to town. He had lived in the country for so long and now he shared a strong bond with it. The thought of him leaving soon caused lump to form in his throat. If only he had someone that took care of his every need.

Chuckling at his ridiculous wish, he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. That was sure a stupid dream that would never manifest in this world or the world to come.  No one would want to help a loser like him.  That was a sure fact. 

The loud squash of plates breaking made him jump from his stool as fear gripped him. It was from the next door and this sent shiver down his spine.  He wondered who it was and why they were in an empty house that had longed been abandoned after the mysterious death of the last occupant.  Moving to his window to take a peep even after the noise had quietened down, he saw a shadow of a person and dread consumed his entire being.  Balling his hands into a fist, he couldn't decide which was better: confronting whosoever it was or running up the stairs and shutting his door - perhaps, the ghost or anything wouldn't come for him if he didn't make his presence known.

Shaking his head, he concluded that was a bad idea.  What if he was attacked in the middle of the night? That would be so much worst. Taking the bull by the horn, he decided to confront whatsoever it was. He picked the long pestle by the side of the wall which he had kept for security - though he had never experienced an attack in the past.

The noise began again - much louder this time. Dread and terror filled him to the brim as he stepped out of his house. It was times like this he wished he had neighbours; then, he wouldn't have had to bear this alone.  

The cool evening breeze hit him like a rod and he shivered as he was in nothing but a singlet. The noise was coming from the backyard and Drake contemplated if he should head straight for the back or take the front door. As he stood in front of the building, the iron black door creaked open due to its rust and the figure of a person came into view. 

This unexpected action caused Drake's legs to wobble and he fell to his back. Scared, he covered his eyes, yelling at the top of his voice.

"Please, don't kill me!" 

He kept screaming and when he heard nothing, he slowly opened his eyes to meet a very irate lady standing by the door with a bowl of broken dishes. Drake stumbled to his feet and took some steps backward; his eyes fixated on the lady. She looked harmless but very angry; she looked quite familiar too. Drake racked his brain to recall where he had seen her. 

"You!" He pointed when he finally remembered and in a flash, she dropped the bowl she had been holding and grabbed him by his light fabric, tugging at it.

"Who are you and what are you doing in front of my house?" She gritted her teeth; her fingers digging into his skin.

Drake couldn't form a coherent word for he was very surprised at her action; she was choking him with her tight grip too. Breathing heavily,  she pushed him hard and he almost fell. 

Drake, thinking it was over, tried to regain his balance when he caught her grabbing a shard from the bowl of broken dishes. Alarmed, he raised his hands in surrender. 

"I'm. . .I'm your neighbour!" He blurted out and she looked at him.

"I live here." He pointed to his house. "I heard sounds of dishes breaking so I came to check who it was since this house was supposed to be empty." He explained and she calmed down a bit. 

She made way to drop the shard but like a voice asked her not too, she advanced towards him with the weapon in her hand. 

"What do you mean by 'you'? Do you know me?" The glare had returned to her face and Drake staggered a bit. He wondered why he was acting this way; she was only a harmless lady, wasn't she?

The look on her face told Drake he would really be stabbed if he didn't give response to her question.  She would sure get away with it if she did - one disadvantage of living alone in a deserted street.

Ever since the old couple's mysterious death,  most neighbours relocated except him. She could dispose his corpse into the near by bush. End of story!  

Drake shuddered at this.  It was true he was a loner but he didn't want to die yet. He still had his poor mother who did nothing but worry about him all day long.  

"I don't know you but I saw you while driving to work today.  You were jogging."

She looked him over when he said this before shaking her head and grabbing her bowl. She walked to the nearby bush that was opposite their houses and disposed the broken dishes.  Drake stood by her door, watching her and when she got close to him, she stopped and picked the pestle which had fallen from his hand when he fell. 

"Did you bring this to attack the thief or was this brought to attack you?" She raised a brow. "It seems to me you would be attacked with it, seeing how you behaved like a chicken."

Drake frowned; he didn't like the tone of her voice; it was debasing. He wondered who she was and why she was being so rude. Already angry, he grabbed the pestle from her hand and walked quickly back into his house.

He slammed the door shut and padded into his bedroom. Though he was relieved it hadn't been a ghost or something worst, he was deeply provoked by his new neighbour's behavior.