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Every road in every neighborhood in every community has its own especially weird neighbor and three years ago, I got the prize of all possible neighbors. That was the year the elderly couple across the road decided that with their failing health it would be best for them to sell and move back into their city home. They were different, but nice and quiet and I worried about whom or what would be moving into that home I look at everyday.

Would they care for the place as well as the previous owners? Would they be older or younger like us? It did not take long for me to find out the answers to those questions and a few more that I had not thought of. Six months after the house and six acres was placed on the market, our new neighbors were moving in. Curiosity almost ate me alive until I finally braced myself as I walked across the road to meet the new owners. That was my first mistake.

During that very first two-hour adventure into the twilight zone, I learned that the woman of the house was definitely off. The man of the house is a very nice disabled Vietnam Vet that very rarely leaves the house. I should have really stayed away after sitting on the back porch with Cheryl. While wearing a white muscle shirt with no bra, rotted buckteeth flashed as she told her tales of glory. Her "old man" was an ex-Bandito and a member of the KKK.

I figured it was just the whiskey she drank like Kool-Aid talking so I did not really pay her much attention. Over the next few months, I learned to keep my distance from the big-mouthed crazy woman across the street. However, unfortunately staying away from her was not enough to keep her at bay. Within a year, she was sitting down with my husband as she advised him that he should keep a closer eye on me.

Among her list of reasons was mysterious cigarette butts that no one else saw had started to appear under the windows around her house. In addition, she was sure they were mine because I am the only one on the road smoking that brand. The month before she claimed they were my father-in-laws. Cheryl also felt the need to tell my husband that she had seen me walk down the road at one in the morning only to return around four. Moreover, she had seen this on numerous occasions. I work nights in my home office.

At this point, I stopped wondering if my neighbor was crazy, I knew she was. However, it was another six months before I found out just how far she would go. Moreover, I was not the only neighbor that she decided to make a target out

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