They're lurking all throughout the streets of your neighbourhood; you don't know who they are because they've never talked to you since moving to their new houses. They are... Unsocial Neighbours.
I love my room. It's a place to escape to when your parents keep asking excruciating questions about your life; it's a safe haven for creativity and having time to yourself. I love looking out the window of my room and enjoying the idyllic view of a gigantic redbrick house blocking the sunlight and exposing their garden which looks to have been abandoned since the early 90s (sarcasm intended). This of course is the house of Unsocial Neighbour, and his family. Unsocial Neighbour moved into the house next door around four years ago and has remained a recluse ever since. As a matter of privacy, and the fact that I have no idea what his name is, he shall remain called... Unsocial Neighbour.
From what I do see of Unsocial Neighbour, he spends a suspiciously long amount of time at the side of the house, next to the bins. Now, for those of you who have seen Rear Window, a film that was released in the 1950s, Unsocial Neighbour's movements interestingly reflect the movements of the murderer who was seen by Jeff, the photographer across the courtyard, right after he slices up his murdered wife and disposes of her in a suitcase. Let's not jump to any conclusions though, for it would perturb me slightly knowing that a murderer lived next door, and besides I have seen the wife recently, but it's still caused me to investigate the mysterious case of Unsocial Neighbour.
When I was twelve years old, my friend and I decided to sneak up to Unsocial Neighbour's house and find out if he was there or not. Maybe it was due to my unhealthy obsession of crime fiction which fascinated me most about Unsocial Neighbour, because I remembered reading a book called Liar & Spy, by Rebecca Stead that informed me of ways to determine the movement patterns of people. I learnt that to discover if someone was at home or not, simply place a gum wrapper loosely inside the crack of the front door. Sometime later, return to the door and observe whether the gum wrapper was on the ground or not. If the gum wrapper was on the ground, it meant that the person had opened the door to either walk in or out of the house. This process would narrow down Unsocial Neighbour's movements.
Unfortunately, my mum found out what my friend and I were doing and was furious. I no longer make it a habit of spying on people, and don't worry I'm not a crazy person; I just had a very over-active imagination. But I still have no clue as to who Unsocial Neighbour is. Unsocial Neighbour is simply a recluse, who strangely makes it a habit of taking his dog on long walks strapped to a leash inside their tiny garden. It's completely bizarre, witnessing Unsocial Neighbour walk up and down the garden with his dog, instead of going for normal walks. Is this abnormal behaviour, or is it only considered normal for Unsocial Neighbours?
I love my room. It's a place to escape to when your parents keep asking excruciating questions about your life; it's a safe haven for creativity and having time to yourself. I love looking out the window of my room and enjoying the idyllic view of a gigantic redbrick house blocking the sunlight and exposing their garden which looks to have been abandoned since the early 90s (sarcasm intended). This of course is the house of Unsocial Neighbour, and his family. Unsocial Neighbour moved into the house next door around four years ago and has remained a recluse ever since. As a matter of privacy, and the fact that I have no idea what his name is, he shall remain called... Unsocial Neighbour.
From what I do see of Unsocial Neighbour, he spends a suspiciously long amount of time at the side of the house, next to the bins. Now, for those of you who have seen Rear Window, a film that was released in the 1950s, Unsocial Neighbour's movements interestingly reflect the movements of the murderer who was seen by Jeff, the photographer across the courtyard, right after he slices up his murdered wife and disposes of her in a suitcase. Let's not jump to any conclusions though, for it would perturb me slightly knowing that a murderer lived next door, and besides I have seen the wife recently, but it's still caused me to investigate the mysterious case of Unsocial Neighbour.
When I was twelve years old, my friend and I decided to sneak up to Unsocial Neighbour's house and find out if he was there or not. Maybe it was due to my unhealthy obsession of crime fiction which fascinated me most about Unsocial Neighbour, because I remembered reading a book called Liar & Spy, by Rebecca Stead that informed me of ways to determine the movement patterns of people. I learnt that to discover if someone was at home or not, simply place a gum wrapper loosely inside the crack of the front door. Sometime later, return to the door and observe whether the gum wrapper was on the ground or not. If the gum wrapper was on the ground, it meant that the person had opened the door to either walk in or out of the house. This process would narrow down Unsocial Neighbour's movements.
Unfortunately, my mum found out what my friend and I were doing and was furious. I no longer make it a habit of spying on people, and don't worry I'm not a crazy person; I just had a very over-active imagination. But I still have no clue as to who Unsocial Neighbour is. Unsocial Neighbour is simply a recluse, who strangely makes it a habit of taking his dog on long walks strapped to a leash inside their tiny garden. It's completely bizarre, witnessing Unsocial Neighbour walk up and down the garden with his dog, instead of going for normal walks. Is this abnormal behaviour, or is it only considered normal for Unsocial Neighbours?