Color my Life with the Chaos of Trouble

Neighbors, everyone has different experiences with them, some, grow up to be one’s best friend, others, can turn out to be the neighbors from hell. My neighbors were neither, well actually, it’s only one particular neighbor I’m talking about, William Beckett, who, from the day he arrived in his mother’s silver Volvo next door to my house felt the need to make a lasting impact on my life. Whether this said impact was a positive or a negative one, I don’t know, maybe he just wanted to be there with no purpose, with no reason, just there. Either way, I’ll give him points for persistence; he was there, no matter how much I avoided him. He wanted to get to know me and I could not be bothered with him.

****this used to be a Martin Johnson story but around three chapters in I decided to change the person I was writing about, I don't own anyone in bands yada yada yada you know the drilll :)