"Hi, I'm Your Neighbour.", chapter 1
Might as well start off with an introduction. I'm Nicole Calhoun and I live in Oakland, California. I live with my parents who, as they say, love me death, but at the same time, couldn't care less about me. My best friends, who are mostly characters in this story, are Nichole, Carrie, and Sam(antha).
Well, it was a Friday evening after school hours and I decided to call my friend Carrie and see if I was allowed to sleep over. It was May in 1982 and I was bored out of my mind, and just like my fellow 10-year-old buddy, who also knew our parents would probably treat us like crap tonight, motivated me to call her. So, I dialed her number and her father picked up a few minutes later.
*Phone Conversation*
"Hello?"
"Hi, is Carrie there?"
"Yes, who's calling?"
"Nikki."
You might as well know now so you're not confused for the rest of the story. I'm regularly known as Nikki. I hate my first name and about 2 years ago went with Nikki. I could hear him speaking to her in the background.
"It's Nikki. Wanna talk to her?"
"Yeah."
Her full voice finally came through the receiver.
"Hey Nikki."
"What up Care?"
"Not much."
"So, did you ask your dad?"
"Not yet. I'll ask him. Be right back."
After about 5 minutes of hearing bits and pieces of their conversation, Carrie spoke up.
"When can you be here?"
"I can leave now, if that's what your asking."
"'K, see ya soon."
And so, I left my house and walked to Carrie's house. I brought my guitar, which was a black new beginner's, cheap, crappy, one (but still looked good), some extra clothes, my eyeliner, my studded belt and my iPod. It sounds a little young to be that way, but, hell, that was how I was. I was actually accepted into the punk emo part of the world. I guessed I was good at it.
Her dad took us to a car show at a local diner. He had a buddy there that brought his car, made by himself, of scrap pieces. He was a nice guy.
Since Carrie didn't want to walk around with her dad looking at cars, we went up and sat on a hill where there was soft, thin grass. We started talking and finally she brought up something I had mentioned before.
"So you won't tell me one of those 4 major secrets, huh?"
"Nope. And you won't get me to crack, either."
"Oh, come on, Nikki! Please! You can tell Nichole, but you can't tell me?!"
"Fine. Pinky swear?"
"Pinky swear."
"Well, I don't think I should..."
"Nikki If I tell anyone or do anything about it, you can smash my head against a coconut tree!"
"Well, that does sound fun..." I chuckled.
"OK, so tell me."
"You better remember that I am very reluctant at telling you this."
"Trust me, I know." she mumbled.
"OK, here goes. But you can't tell anyone about this or I'll give you some deep shit."
Yeah, we cursed at age 10. Got a problem with it?
"OK, I won't do anything or tell anyone just fricken tell me already "
And with that, I pulled back my red sleeve. She looked at the marks on my wrist.
"So, you're telling me you did that on purpose?"
"Yeah. You tell anyone and I snap your neck like a twig. Got it?"
"Yes, geez."
A few minutes of silence and looking at the sunset. After a while, Carrie spoke up.
"So what didjya do it with? A knife? A razor? What?"
"Why do you need to know?"
"I was just wondering."
After that, she begged to hear the other 3 major secrets that I would only tell the people closest to me. I told her no, then we left the car show and went to K-Mart. Carrie got bored following her dad and after a while and told him we were going to look around on our own. We looked at posters for a while. Then I remembered something.
"Crap. Carrie, if you see a mexican female with a snobby look on her face you either let me know, or lead me in another direction."
"Why?"
"On Nichole's birthday, before we went to the movies for her party we came here and got yelled at. Me and Nichole, that is."
"Why? Nikki, what did you do?" She whined.
"Well, we messed around and pulled some granny panties off the racks and goofed off and she came around and yelled at us." I scrunched my face up and pulled on a thick mexican accent to mock the woman.
"What are you doing here? Just goofing off? I had this all looking nice and you come tearing through it! No respect!" I mimicked. We brke into a laughter fit and between breaths Carrie managed to say "That... Must... Have... Been... Hilarious!"
Then I told her how me and Nichole giggled at the frustrated woman and tore off. She agreed to keep clear if she saw anyone like that. After a while, we went to a supermarket to grab some food and then went home. That night, me and Carrie slept in sleeping bags in her back porch, which was screened in. We stole candy, juice, chocolate, and countless things to eat and stayed up until one in the morning. Our all-time record for Latest Time To Stay Awake was 6:43 AM. We giggled all night long, causing her father to bust us a few times. The next morning, I was tying my black converse on the back porch as we were getting ready to leave and go to work with her dad.
I heard a crash against the floor and a scream and heard Carrie sobbing...
Well, it was a Friday evening after school hours and I decided to call my friend Carrie and see if I was allowed to sleep over. It was May in 1982 and I was bored out of my mind, and just like my fellow 10-year-old buddy, who also knew our parents would probably treat us like crap tonight, motivated me to call her. So, I dialed her number and her father picked up a few minutes later.
*Phone Conversation*
"Hello?"
"Hi, is Carrie there?"
"Yes, who's calling?"
"Nikki."
You might as well know now so you're not confused for the rest of the story. I'm regularly known as Nikki. I hate my first name and about 2 years ago went with Nikki. I could hear him speaking to her in the background.
"It's Nikki. Wanna talk to her?"
"Yeah."
Her full voice finally came through the receiver.
"Hey Nikki."
"What up Care?"
"Not much."
"So, did you ask your dad?"
"Not yet. I'll ask him. Be right back."
After about 5 minutes of hearing bits and pieces of their conversation, Carrie spoke up.
"When can you be here?"
"I can leave now, if that's what your asking."
"'K, see ya soon."
And so, I left my house and walked to Carrie's house. I brought my guitar, which was a black new beginner's, cheap, crappy, one (but still looked good), some extra clothes, my eyeliner, my studded belt and my iPod. It sounds a little young to be that way, but, hell, that was how I was. I was actually accepted into the punk emo part of the world. I guessed I was good at it.
Her dad took us to a car show at a local diner. He had a buddy there that brought his car, made by himself, of scrap pieces. He was a nice guy.
Since Carrie didn't want to walk around with her dad looking at cars, we went up and sat on a hill where there was soft, thin grass. We started talking and finally she brought up something I had mentioned before.
"So you won't tell me one of those 4 major secrets, huh?"
"Nope. And you won't get me to crack, either."
"Oh, come on, Nikki! Please! You can tell Nichole, but you can't tell me?!"
"Fine. Pinky swear?"
"Pinky swear."
"Well, I don't think I should..."
"Nikki If I tell anyone or do anything about it, you can smash my head against a coconut tree!"
"Well, that does sound fun..." I chuckled.
"OK, so tell me."
"You better remember that I am very reluctant at telling you this."
"Trust me, I know." she mumbled.
"OK, here goes. But you can't tell anyone about this or I'll give you some deep shit."
Yeah, we cursed at age 10. Got a problem with it?
"OK, I won't do anything or tell anyone just fricken tell me already "
And with that, I pulled back my red sleeve. She looked at the marks on my wrist.
"So, you're telling me you did that on purpose?"
"Yeah. You tell anyone and I snap your neck like a twig. Got it?"
"Yes, geez."
A few minutes of silence and looking at the sunset. After a while, Carrie spoke up.
"So what didjya do it with? A knife? A razor? What?"
"Why do you need to know?"
"I was just wondering."
After that, she begged to hear the other 3 major secrets that I would only tell the people closest to me. I told her no, then we left the car show and went to K-Mart. Carrie got bored following her dad and after a while and told him we were going to look around on our own. We looked at posters for a while. Then I remembered something.
"Crap. Carrie, if you see a mexican female with a snobby look on her face you either let me know, or lead me in another direction."
"Why?"
"On Nichole's birthday, before we went to the movies for her party we came here and got yelled at. Me and Nichole, that is."
"Why? Nikki, what did you do?" She whined.
"Well, we messed around and pulled some granny panties off the racks and goofed off and she came around and yelled at us." I scrunched my face up and pulled on a thick mexican accent to mock the woman.
"What are you doing here? Just goofing off? I had this all looking nice and you come tearing through it! No respect!" I mimicked. We brke into a laughter fit and between breaths Carrie managed to say "That... Must... Have... Been... Hilarious!"
Then I told her how me and Nichole giggled at the frustrated woman and tore off. She agreed to keep clear if she saw anyone like that. After a while, we went to a supermarket to grab some food and then went home. That night, me and Carrie slept in sleeping bags in her back porch, which was screened in. We stole candy, juice, chocolate, and countless things to eat and stayed up until one in the morning. Our all-time record for Latest Time To Stay Awake was 6:43 AM. We giggled all night long, causing her father to bust us a few times. The next morning, I was tying my black converse on the back porch as we were getting ready to leave and go to work with her dad.
I heard a crash against the floor and a scream and heard Carrie sobbing...
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