Pennsylvania, 2007 (Present Day)368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlJOqo2mTAG
Note: Mavis' Viewpoints
When the sun had finally risen in the sky, lighting my window, I opened my eyes just to see the orange sunlight aiming to my two eyes. By that flash, I knew it was another start of a day here. In this old house that we are living on.
Sliding my legs off of the bed, I got on my feet, heading to the bathroom of my bedroom. It was just a simple one like my two brothers'. The bed had light green sheets, practically touching the floor; light green walls defended it, matching the bedsheets; a wardrobe stood on the side; lastly, there was one window on the side, letting chilly wind in during nighttime.
I woke up my soul even more by splashing water on it. Staring at my face in the mirror, I dried it up with a white towel. I began brushing my teeth and went out of my bedroom afterward. Once I had reached the last step of the staircase, I saw Mavy sitting in the couch in front of the telly. I ruffled his hair, muttering, "Good morning."
He quickly responded by returning my greeting as he nodded.
I nodded and went to the kitchen, seeing Mom and Dad talked to each other, including Malcolm, drinking his orange juice. Mom was cooking bacon and eggs, Dad was already in his coffee mug, reading a newspaper. The usual. "'Morning, Dad," I beckoned.
He didn't look up from the newspaper and just muttered, "Good morning, Mavis."
"Good morning, Mom."
"Good morning, sweetheart." She smiled before looking back on the stove.
"'Morning, moron."
Malcolm glared at me rapidly. "Hey!"
I shrugged, smiling. "It's true," I mouthed, nodding, and he shook his head, knowing that he won't be able to argue back with Mom and Dad there with us. I approached the fridge, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. Afterward, I promenaded to the living room, sinking beside Mavy, and joining him watch the telly.
"The triumphant arrival," he said. "Did you tease him again?" he tantalized, and I nodded. He laughed, shaking his head. "When will the two of you ever consider to be in good terms?"
I shrugged to his question.
Malcolm and I weren't really in good terms. And still are. "Cats and dogs" as others always say. I don't even know how we started being like this to each other. Back then, at old times, every time when we were five-year-olds in the park, we always fought and pranked each other. There was even one time that he tripped me, and I fell on the ground really hard, losing one tooth. I bellowed really loud, sounding like a giant pig. Mom and Dad were furious with him, sending him to our grandparents in their retirement community as a punishment, which had turned to be his biggest nightmare.
"I don't really know. He is the one that always starts it."
He shook his head again, sighing. "You two should be on good terms. I couldn't keep you two in one place, especially Mom and Dad. Even Aunt Beth," he said, his eyes arranged on the telly. "Probably you two should be in the same room until you learn how to be good to each other. Don't you agree with me?"
I shook my head, vigorously.
That was the last thing that I will want to do. I think I couldn't last for a minute in the same cage as him. That is suicide for me. I think I'll be going nuts if I ever do that. Things like those, I call, "once in a lifetime." He's just so annoying and — oh — I don't know what to call him anymore. On the contrary, he's still my brother, so I love him.
But I will never tell him that.
Long thoughts surrounded me, that I didn't even realize that I was looking at the orange juice in my hand. "I will never do that," I said finally, still not looking at Mavy. "I couldn't even last a minute with him. So definitely, my answer is exclusively no. No. Never. Nope. Negative. No way. Do you get what I am saying?" When I finally looked at him, I saw no one sitting beside me. Awareness came to me. He was already telling our parents that stupid idea.
I sauntered over to the kitchen in an instant and saw Mavy, standing in the middle of the kitchen leaning in the counter. Mom and Dad were smiling, approvingly. Approvingly.
"That would be a good idea, Mavy," Mom stated, beaming at Mavy.
"Yeah! How come we've never thought of that before?" Dad agreed, smiling globally around his face.
"You told them?" I said vehemently, all of a sudden. "Why did you tell them that stupid idea?"
"Sweetie." Mom sighed and approached me. "It isn't stupid, okay? It's a good idea. It could work on you two. Don't you want to be on good terms with your older brother?"
I shook my head. "Who wants to be in great terms with that moron?" I jerked my head toward Malcolm, rolling my eyes. I didn't really want to do it, but I knew I could never hold them in the shoulder and make them turn their back on that choice.
"I'm no moron!" Malcolm demurred. "Stop calling me that!"
I shrugged, not caring at all, then turned to Mom. "Mom! I don't want to stay in the same room with Malcolm! He may infect me of his imbecility."
"See? That's what we're talking about. You two should really learn to be good to each other. Tomorrow, we'll be packing our things and we'll stay over at your grandparents' for fourteen days. We'll come back to see any impression. Mavy will be in charge of the house, so if anything happens here because of you two, it's in his hands," Mom said, smiling encouragingly.
Dubiously, I nodded not looking at her. "All right, all right. Fine. But this better be good, Mom," I finally looked at her, and she nodded.
"Yes, of course, it'll be good."
I looked at Dad over her shoulder. "Dad? This better be good."
He nodded. "Needless to say, Mavis," he smiled.
Lastly, I looked at Mavy. "Your idea must be good, Mavy," I eyed him through lowered lids, and he gave me a thumbs up, grinning.
"It's going to be good. You'll do good!"
I rolled my eyes, and we all prepared for breakfast. And this better be good, Mavis, I thought to myself, determinedly. This will not go really bad, right? I mean, it's only for fourteen days with him. And Mavy is in the house, which isn't bad at all.
* * *
When dinner was finally finished, I went upstairs to my room, getting ready for my doze. I hummed a few songs as I pulled on my pajamas and brushed my hair. I slid under the covers and splattered my head in the middle of the pillow, my hair flapping behind me.
I closed my eyes, but not for too long. I opened them back again when I heard the wind whistling from the window. I went out of bed and approached the window, seeing it fully opened. But I remembered closing it. Without any second wasting, I closed it posthaste. And went back to bed. I regarded the window before closing my eyes again.
About ten seconds later, I heard the window screeching. I snapped my eyes open, and the sound stopped. I gazed at the window and saw it half-opened. I approached it again and closed it much more tightly this time. As I walked to the bed, I never removed my gaze to the window. It just stayed closed.
I rode the bed once again, swimming under the sheets. Then, I decided to not close my eyes. I counted in my mind, then seconds later, the wardrobe screeched as it opened slowly. Then, it stopped. It wasn't fully opened. It stopped halfway.
Sliding my legs off, I approached the wardrobe, slowly. I gripped the cabinet door and leisurely opened it widely. From there, I could see someone sitting. A child. A boy, around eleven years old, was sitting there, facing me. He was just looking, not showing any expressions that could scare some people.
He had blood on his clothes and face. He was wearing an old, ripped shirt, shorts that reached his knees that were pulled to his chest, his short, auburn hair fluttered around his head like grass on the ground, his slim arms were adopting his legs to keep them to his chest, he was so slim, his red eyes stared into my soul, and he had a pale skin.
My reaction was too late. I stood there for seconds before screaming.
He waved his slim hands to stop me. "Don't scream! I'm not someone to fear!" he said with this Irish accent, and I stopped. He shot out his legs, his brown sandals touching the floor. He stood up and just stayed on that spot. He stared at me again.
"Who are you?"
"You'll know soon. But I am not someone to fear."
I heard some steps coming to my room. "They're coming! Go hide!" I hissed at him.
He nodded and snapped his fingers, disappearing like what Dobby did in one of the Harry Potter movies. I looked at the door and fixed my hair, swaying them to the side, and settling them behind my ear.
Dad opened the door, carrying a baseball bat. Mom, Mavy, and Malcolm were behind him. They all carried an alert face. They were looking around, like some police officers solving a crime. I didn't move, though. They were just so funny to look at like that. But I never did laugh. They'll be mad if I did.
They finally fixed their eyes on me as they approached. Mom had already touched my shoulder, patting it.
"What is it? Is someone in the house? Tell me, Mavis! Come on!" Dad persisted, and I shook my head.
"What do you mean?" Mavy asked me, scowling in confusion as he regarded me.368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq07V4EMYcI
And I shook my head again, still thinking of a good lie. What kind of lie could I tell them?
"I just — saw a — a — " I stammered, looking around as I thought of a lie. I saw Malcolm carrying Mr. Oswald, his cat, and an idea popped into my head. "A — rat! Yes, yes! I saw a rat. But it quickly went out of the window, so...it's no big deal anymore." I nodded, breathing vigorously as I punched a lie straight to their faces.
They sighed.
"Okay, everyone! Let's head back to our rooms, it's just a rat!" Dad bellowed, and they all went outside.
I let out a sigh of relief, and the boy appeared in my bed. He was sitting there, his legs hanging on the edge, barely touching the floor. "Hey, you, kid!" I summoned, and he looked at me. "Were you trying to get me into trouble? You know if they see a person — any person — here in my room, I'll get scolded? We're not allowed to have strangers in this house!"
"I'm a stranger to you, but not to this house. This house was our house. My family's house. We lived here," he explained, to my astonishment, he was smiling.
"What do you mean you're not a stranger to this house?" I queried, confusion written in my face completely.
"This is our family's house, I told you, Mavis!"
"You know my name?" I asked, one of my eyebrows shot up. "How did you know my name?"
"Your father said it, didn't you hear?" he said, raising one of his eyebrows. "If I look like I disappeared, you're wrong. A person who disappears, still has ears."
"Stop the rhyming words, you're not in first grade!" I said coldly, crossing my arms. "Now, tell me, Little Juvenile, what is your name and what are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "I'm Filius Sallow. The youngest and the last Sallow. And I'm here to warn you."
I approached him, stopping at his front. "What are you going to warn us for?"
"My family will avenge its rights and properties. You are in danger. I'm scaring your asses off, so you could leave this house and stay out of trouble."
"Hey. Stop saying 'asses,' you're too young for that. Just go with the word 'butt.' It'll be a lot more appropriate for your age," I corrected, swaying my left hand across me.
"I'm not a kid anymore!"
"What do you mean? You look like an eleven-year-old for me."
"I'm already fifty-four, for your information."
I turned bug-eyed. "You're what? Fifty-four? But you look young. You have a child's skin — well — you're slim, but you still have the child's skin, I'll give you that."
"I died already, you young woman! But I'm still visible, I don't know why. I thought souls are invisible, so much weirder than I thought to be dead."
"When did you die?" I asked.
"March 9, 1953. I died at my birthday because of my family. That's all you need to know."
"Why did you die?" I asked, even though he said that was all I need to know.
He turned his head away. "I told you already that was all you need to know. You should head to bed. I'll be back tomorrow." He snapped his fingers and disappeared.
When I slid under the sheets for the last time this evening, my nap had begun without any time being wasted.368Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6j2nGdvOjV
