Covet Thy Neighbour

Covet Thy Neighbour

Covet Thy Neighbour

I’ve always resented Mike next door.

Not because of his bigger house, his nice car, not even for the fact that he used to bang my wife; nor that Stacey still sometimes accidentally cries out his name in bed instead of mine.

No, I resent him for his son.

My Daniel is what you would call a spastic.

His Craig is what you would call the captain of the football team.

Oh yes, Mr. Straight-A’s Captain Craig gets all the praise and admiration from the parents, and quite a lot from the girls his age too.

My Daniel pisses himself if you push him too fast in his wheelchair.

I can’t blame myself for what I did to Mike’s boy, but I do regret it.

And at night, with what little sleep I get, I do dream.

I dream that I never murdered the oh-so-special boy next door.

I dream every night of a life where I am not locked in chains in Mike’s basement.

I dream that I cannot hear my wife’s screams as she is raped night after night upstairs.

And, in fleeting moments, I even wonder what he has done to my son.