The Haunted Fuck House(3)

The next day started with a colossal bang. I was rudely awoken by an explosion of sound. I crawled out of bed stretching, then moved to the window for a look when I heard loud voices echoing up to my room. Peering through the curtains, it turned out that the next-door neighbor had backed into an oncoming service truck while leaving her driveway. From the looks of things, it was a one hell of a colossal fender bender. A hoot escaped my lips at the sight. I didn’t mean to laugh, but the old woman next door had been the bane of my existence since childhood. Shaking my head I turned away remembering her spiteful actions through the years. She constantly complained to my parents about the noise Brain and I made whenever we were outside in the yard. Would someone please tell me how eight-year-old boys could be silent when playing pirates and climbing the tree house to fight off invaders? Baseballs, basketballs and toys were routinely confiscated whenever they crossed the hedge of the two pro