Neighbourhood Novels & Stories

Sonia asked as Angela forced a smile. "GIVE ME BACK MY DOLL" The voice rang in her ears as cold shivers ran down her spine. "I don't like this place" Angela said "You're just a party popper" Sonia rolled her eyes. Just then,,, the sighted some people coming towards them. It was an old woman and a little girl of Sonia's age. They were their only close neighbor.... There are only few houses in the area. "Good day ma'am" They greeted the old lady. "Oh hi... You're our new neighbours??" She asked with a smile.

“Oh, you are here!” I kept a cool countenance as I walked over. “Hi…” The woman waved. “Hi, you must be Rosemary. I’m Luna, your neighbor.” Neighbor? My frown instantly returned. As far as I knew, the people who lived on either side of us were elderly folks with no kids. How come she was claiming to be our neighbor? “I live just down the block,” she said, seemingly reading my mind.

Three hours later, Jack pulled into the neighborhood where his sister resided. Traffic had been more hectic than he'd anticipated. The area was rougher than he'd have liked. Older homes left in various states of disrepair lined the street, surrounded by rusted chain l**k fences. Graffiti tags littered the various buildings, cars sat on bricks along the edges of the streets, and a strange silence hung in the air. Finally, he reached the two-story faded pink home of his sister. He pulled into the empty drive and turned off the car.

"You live in a place like this?" Maureen was still in awe as she entered the apartment corridor following Ben who preceded her with a box containing copies paper of the meeting results and some additional plans. "Still rare, huh?" Ben turned to face Maureen and walked backwards, bragging about his rare home. When compared to the big city, their nearest neighbor, the available apartment buildings are still under ten stories. The effect of most of the soil structure on which the foundations rest is still swampy.

I thought he was going to meet his woman? I parked Liam's car – one of my buddies – beside the convenience store and walked towards the location where Daddy's car was parked. Our village has two types of houses: the mansion type, like ours, and the townhouse type. The houses look alike, and in one compound, there are two houses facing each other. It's like having neighbors in pairs. I saw Dad enter a townhouse, number one four three. This information is enough. I immediately left the place and went back to my car. I can just hire someone to spy on them; it's easier than following Dad around.

I sit up straighter, a frown pulling at my brow as I take it all in. This isn’t where I expected. The neighborhood we’re heading into is calm, almost aggressively normal. Two-story family homes line the streets, each with small gardens and neat fences, parked cars sitting innocently in driveways. It feels lived-in, domestic, the kind of place people settle down and raise kids and complain about noise levels. Has Nyra been hiding here? The idea feels strange, but not impossible. She always did like blending in when she wanted to disappear. I glance down at my phone again, thumb hovering over her contact.

It was a rural area compared to the neighbourhood they all lived in. “I love how calm and serene this place is. Everyone is free and relates to each other, unlike my neighbourhood where everyone minds their business. Imagine, I wasn't aware our neighbours had a hot son. I saw him for the first time yesterday.” Freya said, as they walked down the street holding each other's hands. “Freya, do you intend to add him to your catalogue of boyfriends?” Timothy teased. “Not a bad idea. What do you guys think?” Freya asked.

I knew who was vegan, who was faking it, whose kid was flunking math, and who had a secret stash of chocolate hidden behind the broccoli in the freezer. Sure, the neighborhood skewed older than what we were used to – like a retirement village that hadn’t fully committed – but all in all, it was your typical slice of suburban America: peaceful, nosey, mildly dysfunctional, and smelling like charcoal and secrets. And honestly? It felt truly comforting.

On top of that, Mom would get mad because my body's not exactly cold tolerant. Fortunately, most of our neighbors have been nice to us since we've been the oldest occupants in the neighborhood. Coupled with the fact that my mom was in the community committee, I could safely say we got some special treatment. Knocking on a random door to ask for some minutes of shelter till the rain stopped wouldn't be a bad idea. Clicking the doorbell, I rubbed my palms together, my teeth chattering, before it dawned on me exactly whose house I was at.

The chrome and glass structures grew larger the closer we drove into the city, towering over us like a concrete jungle. People walked by, fixated on their phones and paying no mind to the people they passed. They stared straight ahead, cold and unbothered. The juxtaposition to our tiny community, filled with friendliness and warmth, was stark. People here didn't know or care about their neighbour, only focused on staying ever in motion.