Old Man Sith

It was the super whiffle, the ball that curved, slid, split and even rose. That’s what it said on the advertisement and that’s what happened. It was like magic. At-least that’s what I felt about it. You would too if you saw it. Somehow wherever you threw the ball, it seemed to be attracted to the chalk strike zone I drew on the fence. But the one time it’s magic failed, boy, did it get me into trouble. ​

The ball went over the fence into our dreaded neighbor Old Man Sith’s house. Old Man Sith was a neighborhood legend with his ratty features, humped back, rotting teeth and his red eyes. He had white hair, sallow cheeks. He was nothing but a bag of bones. His thoughts though were worse than his looks if that was possible. He was known for being particularly sour, mean and cruel to little kids. If any toys or balls were in his yard even by a centimeter he was guaranteed to come hobbling out of his house to take it and destroy it in front of your eyes, and that is exactly why I was so alarmed at my ball going over the fence.

I sprinted and dove to a tiny crack in the fence separating our yard. The ball was not far away. I could probably scale the wall and get back quickly. As I started to climb the fence Old Man Sith came running out of his house and saw me trying to get the ball. He gave a wicked cackle seeing my attempts and roughly picked it up and threw it across the yard into a tangled blueberry bramble.
“Guess, you won't be getting that thing now!” He said in a raspy voice.
“We’ll see about that!” I mumbled at him
“Yes, we will.” He replied 

Immediately after going home, I told my dad about what happened and tried to persuade him into
having a talk with The Old Man. My dad gave a bleak no and reasoned that it was my fault for playing on that side of the yard. I asked my mom and she too said no. So I went to bed that night with the resolution that if no one would help me I would get my ball myself. Early the following morning, I snuck into Sith’s yard. His yard was a mess, it was overflowing with weeds, thorny bushes and blackberry brambles which never had any blackberries on them. I tiptoed across the barren yard until the point where I could see my ball and almost reach it. I bent under the bramble with my fingers wrapping around it. I withdrew my hand and stuffed the ball into my coat and turned around to run out of this wasteland. But as if he was a ghost, Sith was standing right there with a horrible, nasty grin.
“Well doesn't that just take the biscuit! Trespassing into my property, then stealing my stuff!” Sith exclaimed in mock shock.
“Well, technically it’s my ball.” I countered
“Eh, whatever.” He says as he reaches out to grab me.
“What are you doing! Get away from me!” I screamed and ran away. I would have gotten back home safely if it wasn’t for a loose rock sitting on my way. 

The loud thud was the noise of me face-planting after tripping on a rock. I tried getting up, but my ankle gave out. I looked behind me and Sith was there. He dragged me into his house. His house was dirty and smelled like a prison cell. There were broken dishes all over the place and there were rats inhabiting the kitchen. He dragged me up the creaking stairs into a musty and damp room. He threw me in and locked the door. I sat in there trying to figure out what to do for hours. There were no windows in the room except for a tiny one almost at the ceiling. I knew that if I found a way to get out of that window, I would be free. I looked around the room for tools that would help me. There was nothing in the room except a big brown bag. I peered into it hoping for rope of some kind. I only saw clothes in the sack. I took them out with a plan to tie them together into a giant rope. But after a few minutes of extracting clothes, I unearthed a rustic old cell phone. I gazed at it in awe. Here it was as if God heard my prayers, an answer to all my troubles. A cell phone.

I quickly booted it up and called 911. I recited everything to the police. The police told me they were on their way to save me, and sure enough they were here in under ten minutes releasing me, arresting Old Man Sith and explaining the situation to my parents. After the arrest of Old Man Sith, whose actual name I later found out was Sith Ramsey, his house was sold to a small family with a boy of my age, and I am glad to tell you that they improved the house, transformed the garden, and their son Luke is one of my best friends.​

Vihaan Agrawal is a 6th grader at Timberline Middle School.

"A fictional story about a cantankerous old neighbor. NOT AT ALL REAL."