The House

The house looked exactly like every other house in the neighborhood. The guy that lived there seemed alright, too. Mr Turner was a hunched wrinkle of a man who wheezed as he walked, but when he was walking his poodle, Cujo, around the neighborhood park, he always seemed very friendly- especially around the neighborhood children.

Mr Turner’s house was actually a bungalow- the perfect place to retire, you’d think. It consisted of 8  rooms- three bedrooms, a dining area, a sitting room, bathroom, kitchen and one room in the attic that he had had enlarged soon after his late wife’s passing.

A few months ago he’d decided to convert one bedroom into his own personal study- what an 89 year-old man would be studying at all hours of the night was unknown to everyone- though the neighborhood teens loved to spitball a few ideas over a fag or two between classes. 

“What if he’s really a CIA agent?” Giggled Kev, passing the smoking object back to his girlfriend, Sophie, while they stood outside the school gates. “And he’s studying the British ways ‘cuz the Americans are paranoid as hell about the next war.”

“Don’t be stupid, babes.” Sophie took a long, luxurious drag before looking into the ashes as they fell to the ground and a smirk came over her. “He’s probs just like every other lonely old man.” Kevs round face thought for a moment before his nose wrinkled.

“He’s lookin’ at….?” Sophie’s eyes widened in realisation as she thought down to Kev’s level.

“Nuuuh! Ew! He’s probs looking at the bible, dumbass. God. I’m never getting that image out of my head.”

She stamped on the cigarette to put it out as the bell rang.

-._.-

 

“Oh no. Oooh no. Ohohohoooooo no.” Katherine’s jugular was practically leaping from her throat with the pounding of her heart as she rummaged in her rucksack before the maths teacher came in. 

“What is it?” Asked Alex, squinting at her from behind a jungle of thick curly hair.

“I forgot the homework.”

Miss Clarke walked in right before Alex could tell Katherine to get her affairs in order. She surveyed the class from behind her sharp glass glasses and simultaneously caused 32 students to gulp. Her heels clacked ominously on the floor and were scarier than any gunshot could ever be.

Luckily it the end of the year was gaining of the class and the only thing to be done was tear down the decorations they’d made in year 8, to be replaced by the new year 8 class. However, all the while the cloud of late homework hung over Katherine’s head in such a realistic way she forgot it was a metaphor and wondered briefly why her glasses weren’t fogging up.

Miss Clarke had her and Alex on bin duty- seeing as there were already 3 full bins, the pair decided to hop to work.

-._.-

Mr Turner hated driving.

-._.-

Katherine’s shoulders ached from the efforts both of math ‘class’ and the ensuing netball fiasco that was ‘Physical education’. Miss Clarke didn’t give her detention- that was the good part. The bad part involved Katherine having five assignments, all due tomorrow- two of them English. She hated English- she was a scientist, why should she have do anything quantitative rather than qualitative? She walked towards the bike cage where Alex would be waiting, and thought about what A-levels she wanted to do- preferably in some city far far away.

“You look rather pensieve.” Alex faked a posher-than-thou accent as she greeted him at the bike cage and they walked out of the school gates.

-._.-

The house sensed something was going to happen. It couldn’t explain it, simply knowing what would happen. When?

Perhaps a thousand years or so, or even in that magnificent time called ‘tomorrow’, when she understood most future events seemed to occur.

She cracked open one of her windows and wiggled the key in the door. The wind against her walls caused her very foundations to shiver and shutters to flutter, even though her windows were closed tight.

It was winter, but even so the night snuck up on the town unusually fast. She sighed and resigned herself to rest until her homebody came back. 

The figure creeping through her window rather prevented this. He picked up a stray brick from the garden and smashed into her- punching his way in as she was startled awake.

The scream echoed through the empty road as she settled down again a moment later.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s