Keep to Yourself

The sound of a loud, growling engine jolted me from a dream. “Bleh.” I tugged my tangled hair from my mouth and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. What in the world was that?

Groaning, I dragged myself from bed and padded toward the window. I pulled aside the purple-spotted drapes and spied a massive black truck parked in the weed-covered yard of the house next door.

Who in their right mind would freaking move at two in the morning?

The driver cut the engine, and the rumbling finally ceased. A dark figure jumped from the truck, walked to the house, and unlocked the door. Then he began unloading boxes from the truck bed.

I watched for a while, trying to make out what he looked like. He moved like a man and was about as big as one. Whoever he was, he seemed strong; some of those boxes looked heavy.

Wait. Where's his moving truck? I know for sure that house has no furniture.

I craned my neck, searching for a moving truck that might have fallen behind.

Nothing.

“Hmm.”

On his seventh trip to the truck, the man paused and slowly looked up at my house.

“Oh, freak!” I ducked down and sat with my back against the wall. Chest heaving, I counted to five, took a deep breath, and slowly rose to peek through the window.

The man had resumed unloading. I released my breath in a long whoosh. That was close.

I stood and resumed watching my strange new neighbor. Eventually, he finished unloading, locked the front door, and climbed into his truck. The growling monster snarled to life and rumbled down the driveway.

I watched until it disappeared around the corner. Looking at the red numbers on my clock, I groaned and collapsed into bed. My alarm would be going off in three hours. Stupid work. Stupid loud, inconsiderate neighbor moving in in the middle of the night.

I fell asleep grumbling to myself.

My alarm went off, and I jerked into a state of semi-consciousness. My arm flopped around, and my hand smacked me in the face. “Ugh.” That woke me fully. I jabbed the disarm button on my phone and stood. I yawned, stretched, and then last night's events came rushing back.

I ran to my window and ducked until only my eyes were above the sill.

The house was silent, its ever-present weeds swaying in the morning breeze. The For Sale sign was gone, and the big black monster sat in the dirty driveway with a black trailer attached.

Hmm. Where's Mr. Spooky Night Owl?

Speak of the devil.

The red, peeling door opened, and a big, intimidating man stepped outside. I couldn't tell if he was the same man from last night, but it had to be him. He unlatched the trailer door and slowly let it fall.

I stood up—the crouching was killing my legs—and hid beside my drapes, using them as a shield from his gaze.

The mystery man disappeared into the trailer. A large black box began to nose its way out. “What the?” I stepped from behind the curtain and pressed my face against the glass.

It was a coffin.

I gasped and ducked back behind my drapes.

Who in their right mind has a friggin' coffin?!

The man wheeled the jet-black coffin into the open garage. Another coffin already lay on the ground, caked in dried mud and grass. Beside it was a body bag.

I covered my mouth and slid down the wall. This guy is really freaking me out.

I shakily got ready for work. I was already going to be late, so it didn't matter that getting ready took twice as long. My hands shook so badly that I ruined my makeup and couldn't button my shirt until the fifth attempt.

“Okay. Maybe he works in a morgue and keeps extra coffins at home. Or his parents died, and he got a deal on a used coffin and body bag.”

A crazy giggle escaped my throat. I was getting worked up over nothing. It had to be nothing. Calming myself, I grabbed my keys and headed outside. What I saw stopped me cold.

The man was holding a black garbage bag. Something heavy sagged inside it, and liquid leaked from the bottom.

He was staring directly at me.

My keys slipped from my hands. The blood drained from my face. When I was seven, my dog died. My father had callously stuffed him into a black garbage bag. It looked exactly like the one in the man's hands.

I choked down a gasp, snatched up my keys, and dashed to my car. I started the engine and mashed the gas pedal, never daring to look in the rearview mirror.

Work was a blur. I couldn't pay attention during the meetings. My fingertips were raw from nervous chewing, and my knee bounced uncontrollably beneath the table.

“Amber?”

I didn't respond.

“Amber!” A hand grabbed my knee and forced it still. I looked up. Sarah was staring down at me. “What is wrong with you? You haven't made a peep during the meetings, your knee is stomping a hole in the carpet, and you were an hour late to work.”

“Oh, Sarah, I, I am so sorry.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “I had a new neighbor move in, and I'm pretty sure he's a serial killer or something.”

My coworker laughed and sat beside me. “Amber. Seriously? A serial killer?”

“He has muddy coffins and a garbage bag with a body and a body bag!” The words spilled out a hundred miles an hour.

Sarah grabbed my shoulders. “Hey, hey. Take a breath and make some sense.”

I did, then told her everything I'd seen.

“Okay. I get where you're coming from. That is very, very creepy.”

I nodded vigorously.

“Maybe he's socially inept and works in a morgue. Those guys can be nuts sometimes.”

I sighed and patted her hand. “You're a good friend. But if I don't come into work tomorrow, it's probably because I got murdered in my sleep.”

I hugged her and left. I drove slowly toward my neighborhood, watching for my creepy neighbor. “Oh, good.” He wasn't there. I parked and sat in my car, staring at his house. Screw it.

I threw open my door and marched to his house. I knocked. Nothing. I knocked harder. Paint flecks drifted to the ground. Still nothing. Huffing, I walked around back, stepped over the sad little fence, and climbed the stairs to the small deck.

Ah. A window with no blinds. I wiped the glass with my elbow and peered inside, cupping my hands around my eyes to block the sunlight. I screamed and leapt backward, tripped over a broken lawn chair, and landed hard on my shoulder.

“Crap! Crap! Crap!” I staggered upright, stumbled down the stairs, and landed on my hands and knees. A face stared up at me. “Ahhhhh!”

I scrambled backward, slipped on the grass, and landed on my stomach beside the face, which stared blankly up at the blue sky. I shot to my feet and ran toward the street.

I never made it.

Hands grabbed me from behind. One arm locked around my waist and arms while the other clamped over my mouth. A rag was pressed over my nose. Darkness descended.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Sarah stood over me, brushing my hair behind my ears.

“Wha, what happened?”

“You tripped and hit your head. It's a good thing your neighbor saw you. He's the one who called me.”

I blinked up at her. “My head? What neighbor?” I turned toward the blurry figure approaching me. My new neighbor.

I screamed and tried to back away, but I couldn't get far lying down. Sarah grabbed my shoulders.

“Amber, stop! Stop!” She slapped me. The screaming stopped.

“Amber, look at me. This is David. He's your neighbor, the one you were telling me about. He isn't a serial killer. He works in the morgue.”

David smiled. I stared at him. “No! I saw the body he had buried! And there was another body in his house with its arms and legs ripped apart!”

Sarah laughed.

“Why are you laughing? Call the cops!”

“Amber, listen.” She pulled me into a hug. “He's still a student. The bodies you saw? They're practice dummies. You know, for students who want to practice at home.”

My heartbeat began to slow.

“It's true,” David said. “I didn't mean to scare you. When you work in a morgue, your hours are a little off.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“If she’s feeling better, I better head out. I have more unpacking to do.”

Sarah nodded, and David left. The moment the door shut, I shot upright and grabbed Sarah's arm. “He's the one who knocked me out!”

I told her everything, the bodies, the fall, the hands grabbing me, the rag. “He snatched me! He drugged me! He must have had chloroform on that rag!” I stopped when I saw her face.

She didn't believe me. Tears filled my eyes. “You have to believe me.”

“Oh, honey. I think you're just stressed. You need a few days off work.”

My jaw dropped. “I don't believe this. Sarah, I think you need to leave.” She tried to fuss over me, offering tea, soup, and a bath. I ignored her and went to the window. David was moving boxes into his house.

“Okay, fine. I'll go. Call me if you need anything.” The door shut behind her. I watched her car disappear, then ran to the kitchen and hauled a chair upstairs. I positioned it by the window and sat down, my eyes glued to my lying neighbor.

All night, I watched him.

He moved boxes, big ones, small ones, suspicious ones. A few times, he stared toward my window, but I ducked before he could see me.

At four in the morning, David returned. I had started to doze when his truck rumbled into the driveway. He climbed out, lowered the tailgate, and dragged something heavy from the truck bed. It looked like a body.

I reached into the bag beside my chair and pulled out the night-vision binoculars an old boyfriend had left behind. I focused them on David and the thing he was dragging.

It looked like a body. Heavy. Limp. The bag struck the concrete. It split open. A leg fell out. A leg wearing several multicolored ankle bracelets. And a small gold cuff. Sarah wore those.

I jolted upright. “Sarah!” As if he'd heard me, David slowly turned toward my window.

Then he winked. The spell broke.

I grabbed my phone and ran downstairs, frantically trying to dial the police. My fingers slipped, dialing the wrong number again and again. I reached my front door and grabbed the deadbolt. The door flew inward.

David came barreling inside. He knocked the phone from my hand, grabbed my head, and smashed it against the wall. Stars exploded across my vision and I slumped to the floor.

David ripped off a piece of duct tape and slapped it over my mouth. He hauled me over his shoulder and strode out of my house. I tried to scream. The tape muffled the sound. Six people lived on this street. No one heard me.

He carried me into his house and dropped me onto the floor. Crying, I ripped off the tape and tried to crawl away. David brought his boot down on my ankle.

Crack. Pain exploded through me. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and threw me beside the black coffin lying next to a freshly dug hole.

“Now, Amber, you should have kept to yourself. All I wanted was to move into this quiet neighborhood. But no. You had to stick your nose in my business.”

He dragged the coffin toward the hole. It fell in with a heavy thud. Then he disappeared around front and returned dragging Sarah's body. He dumped her into the open coffin.

“Now it's your turn.”

“No!” I swung at him, but he knocked my arm aside. My voice cracked. It seemed loud enough that someone should have heard. No lights came on.

David kicked me in the stomach and all the air left my lungs. He rolled me into the coffin on top of Sarah and I landed on my back.

“No, please.” My words were barely a whisper.

He only smiled. “Goodbye, Amber.” The lid slammed shut. I screamed. I pounded against the wood.

“Please! Let me go! I won't say anything! Please!” Thumps echoed through the coffin. He was burying me alive. I screamed long after the thumps stopped. I screamed until my vocal cords shredded.

I screamed long after that.