Pennsylvania, 2007 (Present Day)354Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHd1NFA8ihz
Note: Mavy's Viewpoints
I do not feel like I was welcome here. We were not welcome here. Why was I saying that? Currently, I was standing in the kitchen around 1 a.m., pouring myself a glass of water. I felt like someone was staring at me. I could feel like someone was staring at me, all the way.
I felt like I was a target. A target, pouring himself a glass of water behind the kitchen's counter. It utterly felt weird. I gazed around the kitchen, but I found nothing. No one, to be accurate. I went to the windows, trying to see as far as my eyes could take me. Furthermore, I saw nothing rather no one, as I gripped the glass tightly around my fingers and palm.
There certainly was someone out there out of sight. I just could not see him. Or her. I went back to the counter, as more deafening silence descended toward me. Instantaneously, my phone rang in my pocket, moreover, I bounded in hysteria. I did not even know I brought it with me. I rubbernecked at the caller's ID.
Fast & Furious
Damn it. Deirdre almost gave me a heart attack. I picked up the call, rolling my eyes. "What?" I snapped angrily.
"Hello to you too, mate," she said, tantalizing me.
"What are you doing up calling this late?" I questioned.
"What are you doing up picking up the phone this late?" she retorted coldly.
"I asked you first."
"I asked you too."
"Come on. Stop playing that game." I trapped the phone on between my shoulder and ear since my hands were full. The glass was on my left hand and the pitcher on the right. I went to the sink and placed the glass down and shoved the pitcher on the refrigerator. I went to the sink and placed the phone on the other side for adjustment as I washed the glass.
She sighed. "Fine," she gave up. "I was just bored. And since I know you pretty well, you are always getting up around one to drink a glass of water."
I chuckled, smiling at her statement. She truly knows me pretty much. "Yeah. You really know me pretty well. We could talk for as long as you like. What do you say?"
She hummed on the other end of the phone, I can even imagine her nodding. "Sure," she agreed with my offer. "I mean, no one else could hear me. I'm on the roof. To call you."
I turned worried and vexed and frustrated. "Did you go out of your window again?" I asked her, sounding like an old man. She had done that before, and it got me pretty worried. I regard her as a sibling too. "Deirdre, you know that is dangerous. You do not know if someone is watching you. It's literally 1 a.m., just like what you said." I rinsed the glass and put it back in its rightful place. Then, I turned around and leaned back on the counter, finally pawing the phone, and turning highly sober.
"Nah. It's fine. Nobody's awake. The street lights are on, so I could practically see everything here in the street."
I nodded as though she were able to examine it. "Fine. But," I stated, "I have to tell you something."
"What is it?"
I cleared my throat and observed my surroundings before speaking. "You moved into that house three years ago, right?" I requested it first.
"Yeah. What about this house?"
I sighed. "I'm just feeling something — off-center here, and I am wondering if — maybe you have felt it when you moved in there at your house."
"What do you mean, 'off-center'?"
I shrugged. "Right now, I am standing here, leaning on the counter, I feel like someone is staring at me. I could feel eyes on me. I do not really know, but I think it's pretty ghastly for a person to feel that way, don't you agree with me?"
She hummed on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, I agree. That is weird. But maybe — you're just not used with your new surrounding?"
"You think?"
"Yeah, but I'm not positive. I never felt that way in this house," she told me. "I even feel like this is a 'home-sweet-home,' they call in some other movies."
I sighed. "Okay."
She suddenly laughed, which made me immersed in confusion and chagrin.
"It is not funny, you know that?" I hissed at her. "Imagine you are in my situation, are you still going to laugh?"
"That is what I am laughing at right now!" she said between her convulsions. "I'm here! Outside your house, resembling like a robber, examining it!"
I furrowed my eyebrows. "What?" I asked. This was not making any sense, I mused to myself.
"In case you are confused — "
"Heck, yeah, I'm confused," I interrupted.
"Okay, okay. You almost got a heart attack, I get it. But I'm just really bored and decided to come over. I asked one of your siblings where you all are living now. And I brought my bike this early to get in your new house," she explained, "Get it?"
I rolled my eyes. "Go to the door. I'll open it for you," I ordered. "Just — don't do that ever again!" I continued, sibilating.
She giggled. "Okay, okay. Fine, I won't."
I hung up, shoving the phone back into my pocket. I headed to the door and opened it, but saw no one. I walked outside, perching on the porch, and looking around for any signs of Deirdre. But I did not see anyone. "Deirdre!" I beckoned quietly. "Deirdre, where are you?"
She popped up suddenly on the side, making me vault in surprise, my heartbeat arising to my ears audibly, repeatedly. "Hey!" she called.
I raised my palm on my chest. "I — told — you!" I said, "Never do that again! Do you want me to die from perennial, surprise pop-ups?"
She shrugged. "Can't help it. Come on, I'm sweating my tail off." She headed to the door.
"You don't have a tail," I objected, following her inside. She plopped down on the couch before responding, as I closed and barred the door.
"Oh, you know what I mean."
I rolled my eyes and sat down on the other couch. "Now, what are you doing here?"
"I told you," she stated, getting up from the couch, "I'm bored. Weren't you listening? Clean your ears, brother."
"We're not talking about the ears here, Deirdre. Are you going to stay until the morn?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Probs. I am pretty tired."
I nodded, standing up. "Stay there then." I started for the stairs when she interrupted.
"I am staying on the couch?" she said. "Seriously? Isn't it supposed to be lads sleeping on the couch instead of ladies? Are you watching some movies, chap? It looks like you don't."
I grinned. "Fine. You got two options. Two options, and you will pick one, got it?" I said, and she nodded. "Okay. Letter One: you are going to sleep in my bedroom, but you'll be on the floor. Number B: you are sleeping here in the living room with this cozy couch, with some sheets."
She rotated her eyes and stood up. "Where are the sheets?" she groaned. "And try to correct what you're saying. Number one, Letter B."
* * *
Later that morning, I descended the stairs, seeing Deirdre, not on the couch. She was in the kitchen, of this I was specific. I went to the kitchen, gazing at her, as she went to the dining table with an orange juice.
"Chap! Are you serious?" I snapped at her, and she peeked up at me rapidly. "You're having your breakfast way ahead of us."
She shrugged. "I'm hungry, chap. After making me sleep there at the 'homey' settee, you were saying, I became hungry."
I snickered. "Well, you had better learn your lesson already. Because that is where you are going to sleep every time you come over here at our new home." I stood proudly, as though I was making a speech in front of a whole throng.
She rolled her beautiful, green eyes. "Whatever." She continued to sip through her glass. "What are your plans for today? You didn't tell me earlier at one."
I shrugged. "Nothing much. Explore the place or something? I don't know," I submitted. "What about you? Are you going home already?" I was really looking forward to it.
"What?" she asked, bug-eyed to what I had said. "You really want me to leave the house, don't you?" she eyed me through lowered lids.
I shrugged. "Well, not really, but you can stay if you like," I told her.
She nodded. "Good. Then, I'll stay."
It was my time to nod. "Well, we could go out and watch some movies. What do you say?" I suggested. "Or do you want to do something else?" I was thinking of going out of the house, for now, then I could explore it after because that was what I was always doing every time my surrounding became new.
I heard her hum a 'yes' through her glass. She pushed the last drop of her orange juice down her throat before speaking. "Sure. We could go see some movies or anything else that we usually do outside."
I nodded. "Okay, then." I sat down on one of the chairs in the dining table and waited for everyone else to wake up. Deirdre came up suddenly to the table, catching the seat across me.
"Where are they?"
"Who?"
She sighed in annoyance, pivoting her eyes once again. "Your family, who else am I supposed to talk about?"
I nodded, sniggering. "Right. Well, they're upstairs, still sleeping, I guess." I raised my shoulders afterward. Silence descended us suddenly. The only thing that could be heard was Deirdre, humming a song. But I just waited there at my seat.
Then, "Where's your room? Is it big? Show me!" Deirdre said eagerly.
I shook my head. "Not really, but it's enough for me, I guess." I stood up. "Come along, then. I'm going to show you my room. My new room." And off we go to my room up the stairs.
As I leaned on the doorframe, she jumped down quickly on the bed, her legs hanging on the edge, her arms spread wide, her hair fluttering on the sheets. "This is great. Who knew you'll have a new room like this? Also, the good thing is, it's old-style. That's what you like."
"You're right."
She sat up and regard me soberly. "Why did you move, by the way? You didn't tell me on your last call before you drove here. Did your aunt show her materialistic self once again?"
I nodded, shrugging. "Well, who could not stop her, anyway? That is — how she is now. She has completely changed, Deirdre. Many things changed on her. Why did she even change, chap? What made her do it? I just — " I shook my head. " — don't understand."
"You know the reason," she uttered.
"What, because she and her husband divorced?" I shook my head once again. "Can't be. Many people divorced in the world, and did they turn mundane?"
She shrugged, and it took her seconds before continuing. "Well, there are so many types of people in the world, Mavy. Cheer up, she will change. Soon, she will. Besides, everyone can move on from a stressful division in life — well, to her, perhaps, it will take a lot of folios, but who knows? She may still vary, so stop fretting about it, drop it."
I nodded, smiling. "Fine, I will drop it." I went inside and took my phone from the night table. I showed her the picture of my aunt and me, to which she laughed at.
"She's absolutely changed. I could completely tell the opposition." She laughed again. Then, there was a knock on the opened door. We swung both of our heads to the direction and saw Malcolm.
He straightened himself once he had caught our attention. "Oh. Deirdre, you're here. I didn't expect it at all. How are you doing? And why are you two in this room? Shouldn't you be in the kitchen, preparing food already?"
"She's fine, thanks for tons of questions," I answered flatly. "We're in this room because she wanted to see my new niche. We were in the kitchen in the beginning if you are still wondering. And preparing food is not my job. Mavis is. And Mom always prepares the food, so where is she?"
He shrugged. "Went off, I guess. Mom and Dad are gone. To the grocery, probably. There's no food in the fridge. Right. I'll go downstairs, bye!" With that, he left us there.
I shook my head and turned to Deirdre back again. "Come on. Let's go downstairs to the kitchen." I reached for the door and let my best friend go out first before I do.
She chuckled, and both of us went to the kitchen together. Malcolm and Mavis were already in there, checking all the cupboards for any signs of food but failed to find any.
"How many?" I questioned even though I already knew there was nothing because of Mavis' reaction. She was so addicted to food. Like, if she skipped breakfast, she was going to die. She has a food obsession, to which I always shake my head at.
Malcolm shook his head irritably. "Not any. Nothing is in this house. I'm going to die of hunger!" He went back to searching while Deirdre and I just stood there and watched them open some closets continuously.
"Well, there's orange juice in the fridge. I just bought it when I woke up too early because of Mavy," Deirdre suggested as she glared at me. "Your settee is extremely comfortable, thank you very much."
I shrugged while grinning, pretending that I didn't know what she was saying. "Don't know what you're talking about."
Her lids lowered. "Sure, you do." She stormed out of the kitchen and plopped down on the couch.
When I looked at Malcolm and Mavis, they were already pouring themselves two glasses of orange juice that Deirdre had bought and I knew nothing about. She did not even tell me. How weird. I shook my head and went to the couch with Deirdre as she surfed through some channels on the television.
"You're not going to drink?"
I shook my head. "Nope. I know for sure that those two will drink it all, and you know I'm never fond of orange juice."
She nodded and turned her gaze on the television. "Right. You're so weird," she said, snickering.
"I'm not a weirdo," I demurred. Besides, what so wrong about not being fond of orange juice? I'm pretty sure some other people agree with me. I just don't like the taste of oranges. I will only eat when Mavis stopped her food obsession.
We heard a car pull over in front and we all gathered on the porch, gazing at Mom and Dad as they went out of the car doors simultaneously. Both of them went to the trunk, getting the grocery bags.
I turned to Deirdre suddenly as they approached the house. "If you woke up early, did you and my parents crossed paths or not?"
"No, we didn't," she shook her head, clueless to what I was saying.
"What time did you go out?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, "four or something? But when I went out, your family's car is still outside, and I spent a lot of time outside, not riding any vehicle, so I think that is why we didn't cross paths. You get what I am saying?" She said all of these very fast.
I just nodded. "Okay. I get what you're saying." Mom and Dad entered the house, as we helped them and went along inside. Mavis was lucky, though. She did not carry anything. When I told her to grab a few things, even a bottle, she told me that she was the youngest so she didn't have to have anything on her delicate hands.
That tot.
I placed the bags on the counter and started for my room, as they prepared breakfast. I plopped down in my bed, and almost absentmindedly, I took my phone and messaged Aunt Beth. I told her if there was still any chance that she could forgive us (but we're still not going to move in there; we're not asking for any more trouble).
Since it was around 8 a.m., I knew I will have to wait for her response. She was not any kind of a morning person. She usually wakes up around 10 a.m. But if there was something important, she will wake up way too early. Forcefully, of that I am sure.
I sighed, quite loudly, and ran my hands down to my face, that I did not even notice that Deirdre went in. "You need something?" I questioned her.
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head, "but — are you okay?"
I shook my head. "I don't quite know." I smiled, but it wasn't from happiness, I didn't know what I was smiling for. "It's just — we were close back then, but — everything has changed. Urgh. Why am I even making this a big drama? Come on." I stood up, and both of us went back to the couch down the stairs. We watched some shows on the old television, finally found something a bit fascinating.
* * *
Later that evening, Deirdre had already gone back to her house, but, of course, I escorted her, using our car. We even listened to The Fray during the whole ride. It was totally rad and fun, having her on my side. But she's just my best friend, and that is it.
Nothing else.
I laid on my bed, just staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, I remembered that I texted Aunt Beth. Checking my phone, I finally saw her reply. And even if I could not hear her, I already knew she was angry and piqued about my last message to her.
Aunt Beth: There's no way I could forgive you. That vase is important. Now stop texting me, I don't have any second for this.
Typical.
Sighing, I threw my phone somewhere about the bed. I stared at the ceiling a bit more, as chilly wind enter my room. Realization coming to my senses, I recalled that I closed all the windows. Almost mechanically, I sat up and got on my feet, presiding to the window. It was really closed, but I could feel the cold wind to where I was standing. It was like, there was a corpse in there. But, I tried to convince myself that it was nothing to be worried about.
I went back to my bed and prepare for the second slumber in my new room.
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