I need to be able to protect myself from whatever they could do. I cannot even leave the house anymore without the scrutiny in their glaring eyes, stabbing me in the back. I decide to go, I head to the store, because there is more coming my way, and I have to be equipped and ready to fight at any moment.

Hastily, wishing not to be seen, I hop into the car, putting the key into the ignition, and switching to drive. I speedily turn out of the driveway, going as quick as I can. I can not be seized, or identified, because who knows what they could do to me.

Grabbing the few bills that I had in my console, I ran straight through the doors, not looking back. I snatch anything that could seem useful. A knife, sure. Rope, why not? This process continues as I make my way through the store. Clutching whatever could fit in my hands, I check out with my eyes on the floor to avoid any scrutinizing glare that could be directed my way. I then run to my car, hop in and begin to head for home.

I pull into the driveway, grabbing each and every bag filled with supplies and hop out and make a run for the backyard. The old rusty door creaks as it shuts, leading me through the muddy ground to the back. As I go to the back door I pass each and every stone laid exactly one foot apart, each stone with one gently placed daffodil, thanks to me. Being that the site in my backyard was nothing new, I go straight in without a second look towards the layout in my backyard, hoping that I wasn't seen.

I precisely lay out all of the materials, preparing them for use, anytime they are needed. I go straight to the bedroom to find a time of relaxation and relief after running from by biggest fear. As I make my way towards the bed, I see a pair of eyes out of the window. I look across the small bit of yard between me and my neighbor and look up at the window. It was the glare. The glare that had been haunting me for most of my adult life. At the very least, once a month there will be just one person, just one single human being that stares at me like no other. They stare at me for hours and hours on end, making it seem as if they are staring into my soul. The glare has no end. There is only one way it can come to an end, and I am the only way. This look, this look from my neighbor was saying, “watch your back.”

Just as every other glare, it lasts for weeks, months even. Everyday, over and over again, a set of eyes stares at me, waiting for me to crack. I could not even sleep comfortably in my own bed, so each and every night, with each door sealed tight with as many locks as possible, I would sleep on the guest bed. There was just no other option, it had to be this way.

People say that I am crazy, that these are the things that make me crazy, but they are wrong. They do not know what I have to go through, what I have seen, what plays on repeat through my head. They do not know of the things that people have said, or the way I have been looked at. They are in no place to judgy my personality and what needs to be corrected about the way I live my life.

This has happened before, so in a way, I was prepared. I know exactly what to do and what to stay away from. Each time before, I have cracked, but this time I was not going to let that happen.

The next morning, I was frightened to see, but just as I figured, there he was. Staring me down like a hawk. Staring me down as if he couldn't wait to get rid of me when he got the chance. I had to do something before he could. I had to be the first.

That night, I could not get any sleep. I shouldn't go to sleep, especially with what was going on. The way that he looked at me played over and over in my mind. As I try to push the thoughts out, they sink deeper and deeper and there is nothing that I can do about it, no matter what I try, I can escape my own mind. I can possibly just wait around for my neighbor to make the first move when he gets the chance he is waiting for. I have to stand up for myself. A system, a plan, something needs to be put together, I do not care if I wasn't getting any sleep, I was going to finish this.

Throughout the night, plenty of ideas went in and out of my head as I thought of a way to get rid of the glare. After many, many, hours of thinking I had concluded with a final plan, and this plan was going to take action as soon as possible.

It was the next day and I was more ready than ever, it seemed like the perfect time. I could not wait any longer to get the glare off my back as once before. This glare keeping me up at night, giving me nightmares I'll never forget, would not longer bother me. If my plan fell perfectly into place, my neighbor would never look at me like that ever again.  Never again would I have to suffer under the looks of him. I had figured out every piece of information possible about the neighbor that I could. His home life, his sleep life, his schedule, and I ended with plenty of information to help set out on the plan with a good success rate.

It was the night, The time had come, it was here. It was time for me to take back confidence from the cold and mysterious glare that I had to deal with everyday. I stayed up, waiting and waiting for the time he would fall asleep. Gone away from the window that had been haunting me for the past few weeks. I knew that it was my time, the perfect time to step out of the comforts of my own home, my safe haven throughout the times of the glare, and put the plan into action. I walked calmly down the steps of my house to the front door, I took one final deep breath from the scent of my very own home, and I stepped out, placing my heavy boot, quietly on the cold hard concrete.

Over the past few weeks, I had gathered very helpful information that I would put towards my plan. I know for a fact, that the mysterious neighbor had no family, no home life, no one to come home to, no one to be getting in the way of my happiness. With neighbors all around, I had to be careful, I could not be clumsy, one little peep and the police could be here in minutes. The police do not understand, they are just like the rest. They do not see what I see. They will never understand.

With my neighbors at rest, there was no easy way that I could use the front door without being heard, so I went in through the basement crawlspace, while it was a messy process, I made it. I had made it inside the house holding the person who had been haunting me for weeks.

The first sight once you have gotten past the basement, is the living room. Fully furnished with shiny, clean furniture and black television. Around, the kitchen, the dining room, and every part of the house as clean as if no one had been in it at all.

I make my way up the stairs, quitely, heading to the bedroom. The place where this plan will be precisely executed.

As I stand in front of the door of the bedroom, every step of the plan replays throughout my head. I do this just to make sure that all parts of the plan would be executed exactly as they are supposed to.

Standing in front of the tightly shut door, I go over the plans one final time in my head before finally and steadily opening the door. There he was. Sleeping so calmly as if his actions weren’t driving me crazy every single day with that cold, hard stare.

I calmly and slowly walk over the old hardwood floors to the bed where my neighbor awaits what I want to do next. Just before I reach a confident enough stage to execute the plan, the floor creaks quite loudly believe it or not. My eyes shut tightly in hope of my neighbor not to be disturbed, and I’m out of luck. His eyes open wide, and he screams as loud as possible. With this, my plan is quickly thrown into the fire and I pull out the bat and bash him once. A wave of relief runs over my head once, but this does not last long when the thought of the neighbors hearing his dreadful shout runs across my mind. Once my breathing slows down, I hear the very distant and tired sounding panting and this one sound in my ear causes all of the worry and panic to run straight back into my head. I bash him once more in the worry that he would wake up to give me the glare at any moment. The pants stop, the heavy heartbeat no longer lingers in my ear.

I feel deep satisfaction in the fact that I would no longer deal with the glares, the looks that treated me with anxiety that were unbearable. I sit and sit to officially make sure that I had accomplished what I had come to do.

I had finally dealt with the incident, but now, I had to get rid of the evidence, clean my shirt, get rid of the bat, all that kind of stuff. Do you think that this guy could have any hydrogen peroxide that I could clean my shirt off with? Nah, I’ll just do it at home. I had almost started to make my way home until the knock.

“Hillington police, please open up” was the echoed words coming through the door and I had felt that my heart had nearly skipped three beats. I then instantly put the lifeless body in the closet hoping that it would never be found.

My palms had become sweaty and my heart instantly began pounding out of my chest. I have to answer it. If I don’t he’ll be suspicious, he’ll think something happened, he’ll find the body. Walking down the stairs in a full panic, I take one final breath before opening the door. “Hello Sir, I had a complaint that the neighbors had heard a scream from next door.” he stated, “Is this where you live?” I thought to myself, what else could I say, If I said that I lived next door, he would accuse me instantly… “yes, this is my home.”

As the cop went on and on about the neighbors and the complaint that they had made, my palms grew sweatier every minute and it seemed as the lifeless body that was sitting upstairs could scream for help at any minute, causing my panic to build more and more.

The cop walks in, and I then asked him if he would like to sit down. I mean, what else am I supposed to do? Shove the door in his face. The cop then lets himself into the bedroom, and my hearts beats harder and harder till I can not hear anything else but the loud and fast heartbeat in my chest. It almost seemed my heart would jump out at any moment.

I begin to panic even more than before. I try my best to be calm, but each and every bone in my body is aching from nervousness, and I try my absolute best to think of a way out of this.

The guilt, in addition of my heart, almost nearly beating out of my chest completely tunes out the words of the police officer. The police gives me a glare, almost as if he can see right through me and tell exactly how I am feeling and what I am hiding.

The pressure builds and builds and I can’t handle it. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from the cold and lifeless body that is hiding from the police officer inside of the closet. I begin to cave, and my brain is masked by the fear of getting caught.

“I DID IT,” I stated loudly, ready to spill everything. The cop instantly stops in his chatter. “Excuse me,” states the cop. “I killed him, that is why the neighbors heard the scream, that is why you are here in the first place. I shoved him into the closet right behind you right as I heard your knock.” To what had seemed like an elephant had been lifted off my chest, the relief didn't last which was expected, the cop immediately stands up, pointing his gun, telling me to put my hands up.

“It’s the glare, I promise. I’m not crazy,” He screamed as Johnson was shoved into the backseat of the police car. “Yeah I think we got a mental one,” stated the first police officer. “With his state, who knows what he has done before. First claiming something about a glare and then killing someone and confessing. He is gonna need some help,” stated the main cop. “Along with prison for the rest of his life,” stated another cop as he joined the conversation. “Did you check his house yet?” the police said breathing hard. “Yes sir we did. You’re not gonna believe what he had in his backyard.” stated the second police officer. “What was it?” the first police officer stated, interested in what the second police officer was going to say next. “He had his own personal graveyard, each stone with its own daffodil.”