My Neighbor’s Last Present
By: Aj Krow
Tags: Short Story, Horror, Horror Fiction, Fiction, Thriller

My Neighbor’s Last Present

Sometimes it’s better to ask your parents for permission

Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash

“Make sure you lock the door when you go back inside the house,” she said. “I’m trusting you to take care of the house while I’m gone, young lady.”

I nodded. I bounced my basketball on the ground a few times as my mom handed me three dollars. The ice-cream man would be on his way in a few minutes, and today was Saturday: allowance day.

My mom got in her car and waved goodbye as she drove onto the street. She was heading for my grandma’s house to pick up some dishes she had left there last night.

I had the house all to myself.

As I watched her drive away, I looked in the other direction to see if the ice-cream man was almost here, but I could not see the truck nor hear music blasting from his loudspeaker. I looked at my sunflower-shaped watch. He was late.

I bounced my basketball a few more times and looked at the hoop mounted above the garage door. The last time I played basketball against someone was when my dad had come back from a business trip a few weeks ago. My mom and I planned on heading to the airport later to pick him up later tonight. Hopefully, we could play basketball tomorrow morning.

I threw the basketball in hopes of scoring a three-pointer. I missed. I ran after the ball and made another shot. Missed again. I tried shooting the ball from an angle, hoping I could make it this time. Missed.

I watched as the ball bounced into my neighbor’s yard. It stopped at his front door. I waltzed over to his yard, hoping he wouldn’t be mad for walking on his front lawn. As I picked up the ball, he stepped out his front door.

“Good evening, Tiffany!” he said. He held a large brown box in his hands, but I couldn’t see what was inside.

“Hi, Mr. Franklin,” I answered. I pursed my lips as I stood on my toes, trying to look inside the box. “Sorry my ball went into your yard.”

“Oh, that’s fine, don’t worry about it!” he paused. “You miss playing basketball with your dad, don’t ya?”

“Yeah, but he’s coming back tonight. My mom and I are supposed to pick him up from the airport later. I’m just waiting for her to come back from grandma's so we can go pick him up. She left me in charge of the house while she’s gone,” I beamed.

“Oh, that’s great! And also very convenient,” he set down the box on his porch. Inside, I found bright red apples.

“Go ahead, try one,” he said. I picked one up and bit into it. It was incredibly juicy and sweet. “Lucky for you and your dad, I made some apple pies today. Would you like one for your family?” he asked.

“That sounds amazing Mr. Franklin, I would!” I jumped. I almost dropped the apple from the excitement. My reflexes kept me from dropping it, but I almost fell flat on my face in doing so. He chuckled.

“Well then, why don’t you come inside and pick your favorite?” he gestured his hand towards the front door. I hesitated.

“Maybe I should wait until my mom comes back. I didn’t ask for permission,” I said. He shrugged.

“You’re just choosing a pie. All you have to do is pick one and take it to your house. It won’t take long,” he waved his head towards the door. As I took a few steps towards his house, I heard music playing over a loudspeaker.

“Oh! The ice-cream man is here!” I dropped my basketball on the ground as I took my allowance out of my pocket and dashed towards the curb to wait for him. My neighbor followed me, carrying his box of apples. As my neighbor waited with me, the ice-cream man turned onto the street. As soon as he did, he turned off his music.

“Why did he turn off his music?” I asked Mr. Franklin. He raised his eyebrows.

“That’s a good question. Maybe he ran out of ice cream?” I bit my lip. I had looked forward to buying ice cream all week, so I hoped that wouldn’t be the case. As we waited, the ice-cream man drove faster in our direction. He stopped abruptly in front of us.

“I brought you another present, Murphy,” my neighbor said, as he handed the ice-cream man the box of apples.

“Thanks! I appreciate the last present you gave me, it was very delicious,” the ice-cream man extended his hands to accept the box. I watched the ice-cream man set the box down inside his truck as my neighbor walked behind me.

Photo by Chelsea fern on Unsplash

Suddenly, I felt something pierce my arm. I tried to scream from the pain, but he quickly covered my mouth. I turned and saw my neighbor pull out a needle from my skin. He lifted me up as the ice-cream man opened the passenger-side door to his truck. I slowly lost consciousness as the ice-cream man took me from Mr. Franklin and placed me next to the box of apples on the floor of his truck. I heard the door slam shut as the ice-cream man revved up his engine and drove away.

I never got to play ball with my dad again.