Author's Note: I am not sure how this story will be taken. It has been on my mind for a long time and decided to finally write it. There will be typos and grammatical errors of all sorts. Mainly because I cannot find an editor. That being said, if someone after reading this would like to be my editor, please contact me. Other than that, read, and enjoy.
I also would like to acknowledge two people who were kind enough to make me write this. Lovecraft68, thanks for telling me what you did. Lady Ver, for telling me it wasn't crap. I appreciate you both very, very much.
*****
(Greg's Side of the story)
Chapter 1:
A different point of view.
There are a whole host of problems with working at night. Lack of essential vitamin D, different sleep schedule from most other people, a sense of being cut off from a large percentage of the world to name a few. My job is even a little worse than that. I work in an industrial complex...kind of. My office is a truck, that I drive around and link up to dumpsters that I then empty in a large compactor that is emptied twice a week. Not exactly where I wanted to go with my life, but there isn't too much to really complain about. I don't have to deal with annoying people, except for the occasional homeless person sleeping in one of my dumpsters. The nature of my work makes it kind of hard to add anything to my social calendar, and by nature of events in my life I tend to not like other people all that much.
Not that I am misanthropic by any means! I don't HATE people, not really. The fact of the matter is I really like people, at least I used to. Hey I am not trying to be enigmatic here, I just, am not wanting to put the cart before the horse. My reasoning will come out eventually. I should get back to the story.
I live off a main drag of highway pretty close to Portland, Oregon. That's in the United States of America for you people not familiar with world geography. I love Oregon, especially where I live. I am an hour from the Pacific Ocean, a half-hour from evergreen rain forests, and an hour from snowy mountains. Also if you head east for another hour you hit high deserts. We got it all in this state, except for Disneyland, we do not have Disneyland. Well, nothings perfect.
So I live off a main drag of highway behind a used car dealership. You take that side road down past the dealership and there is a small pocket of houses that are a kind of throwback to 50 years ago. Each house is individual in size and style. Each plot is about an acre and a half or so, it is not uncommon to see gardens or pools or those weird looking half covers people use to protect their big camping trailers from the weather. Yeah, my house is in that group. It's got an old wooden fence about nine feet tall around the front yard and driveway. You have to get out of the vehicle and open the gate, then drive in to park the truck, then go out and close the gate! I know, shocking that I don't get one of those automated gate opener thingies. I am naturally lazy, and after I saw what was involved with installing one of those... I will just get out of my truck and open the damn gate!
My house is an older two story that needs a lot of work. Drywall, and bare floors, two bathrooms with exposed plumbing, three bedrooms, and living room with open kitchen all as one room. Top floor is just one long room that runs the length of the house. That's where I sleep, and watch my neighbors. My back acre of the house has a large shed/barn, several fruit trees and is fenced in only that it has arborvitae planted tightly around the border. Anyway, back to watching my neighbors. I enjoy people watching, always have and always will. Interacting is a different story. I can do it, but I always feel as awkward as goose in a room full peacocks. Yeah...weird analogy huh? Didn't I just explain I am socially awkward!?
It's not that I am bad looking, who am I kidding... I can't tell you I am good looking! It's not like I got a photo to back it up! Then again, I can't tell you I am bad looking either for the same reason. A picture says a thousand words and I am just NOT going to write a thousand words about my looks. I am average looking with deep-set eyes, thick lips, goatee, and dark blonde hair. I cut my hair by getting a clipper putting the number #1 attachment on it and running it all over my face and head, then shave off the rest that offends me. I am 5 foot nine inches tall, or 175 centimeters for you metric lovers out there, and weigh a whopping 240 pounds. Yep, I am 25 pounds overweight according the doctor after my last physical. No, I don't plan on losing it. Worked hard to get so it stays. I got a 50-inch chest and a 38-inch waist and size 13 shoes. That sums it up, you want more on what I look like then you're nosy and have no life.
Now, my old neighbors had moved out about six months before, then the new ones showed up around June a few months ago. I only noticed them coming in because I heard a large vehicle pull up and a bunch of noise as people got out. I did the natural thing anyone else would do in that situation, grabbed my wood axe and carefully peered out my window to see what was going on. In my position it's always good to ere on the side of caution. Yeah, I know, made you curious. You'll find out eventually.