Chapter 13: The House

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The path curves this way and that. It is bumpy and has been eroded. Plants have begun to cover the path.

As I follow the path, the house becomes clearer.

Curiosity takes it's course. What could be inside? How many rooms? What's in the kitchen?

But one question stood out more than any other: Is there a person there who has access to somewhere else?

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The door is off its hinges and leans on the frame. The door has a knocker that says "The Quimbilys est. 1912"

I knock even though this place is most likely abandoned.

I step in to, what looks like, the living room. The couch sits against the far wall; chairs are scattered around it. In the center of them, is a coffee table.

I go through a doorway and enter the kitchen. In it, a stove, a microwave, a dishwasher, and a fridge. All of the appliances are in a tarnished white.

The counters are made of stone. The cabinets are a brownish-white. The wall paper trims the ceiling. It has begun to peel and has traces of water stains. Mold has gathered in the sink. Which must mean there is or was running water.

I go up to the fridge and open it. It's empty, nothing but dust. I open the cabinets. They're empty too, except they have they have holes in them.

Most have mice, I think.

I sigh and go into the next room.

This room must have been a theater room. It has several bean bag chairs and a screen. I look up, behind me to see a projector.

The projector and the kitchen appliances are fairly new. So, that would have to mean that the people who lived here, left more recently than I thought.

I turn to my left and see two stairways and a door.

I take the stairs leading towards an upper level.

I skip every other step and count them as I go.

Two. Four. Six. Eight. Ten. Twelve. Fourteen. I whisper.

At the top of the stairs is a bedroom. I step through the door.

The room is purple. The walls are covered in posters and princess stickers. In the corner is an unmade bed. Across from it, is a desk.

I stride towards the bed. My hand touches the sheets. I close my eyes and my thoughts drift to home.

The smell of Mom cooking in the kitchen. Clean clothes fresh out of the dryer. Sitting on the couch talking to Trivera in a situation where we weren't stranded. Writing stories on the computer. Sleeping in my own bed not having to worrying if I'll survive the next day.

My eyes open. My fingers still run over the sheets.

I urge myself away from the bed and to the desk.

The drawers open with a screech. I ignore it and rummage through them.

I dig through three drawers before I find anything worth while.

I run my hand over a piece of broken glass. Tied to it is a chain.

My fingers fumble at the latch. Once I finally get it open, I put it around my neck.

It might be wrong, but I don't care.

I heave myself down the stairs and down the other stairs.

I run down the stairs.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. I whisper.

My eyes scan the room.

In the corner, is a bar.

Yet, there is no beer or wine.

Suspicion starts to boil in my stomach.

My fingers fumble over the mini fridge's handle. A foul smell enters my nostrils.

I close it quickly, but not before noticing the beakers filled with chemicals.

I stand up; still covering my nose with my sleeve.

A cabinet above me creeks.

I open it slowly. Inside is a mouse.

"Hey little guy," I say calmly.

It comes towards me. As it steps more into the light I can see it has brown fur with hints of gray. It has tiny pink nose and long whiskers.

I lean forward on my tiptoes to get a better look.

I reach up and grab the little mouse.

"You look like a Charlie to me. Cute, but has the potential to poison you," I sigh.

Charlie's mouth opens.

I yelp. "Charlie bite me!" I scream as the mouse leaps out of my hand and on to the floor. Charlie scurries away as fast as its little legs can can carry him.

A smile stretches across my face. "I am just too damn funny."

I climb on top of the counter to get a better look at what's inside the cabinets.

Nothing. What a surprise.

I walk away from the bar and into the next room.

In the far corner, is a rickety wooden table. Papers are stacked in messy piles. The table creeks as I shift my weight on the floorboards.

In the other corner is a black couch.

I walk over to the table and begin to sift through the papers. Four piles, all are at least six inches high.

My eyes begin to wander. The well on the side of the house is emitting light.

I roll my eyes over to the door.

I don't want to leave! I think childishly.

I begin to trudge over to the stairs and slowly climb up them.

As I reach the top of the stairs, I begin to get more and more curious about the door.

Before I can tell myself that behind the door is nothing, I've already pulled it open.

My hands fly to my mouth, covering up a scream.

I can't move. It's hard to breath.

I lean towards it. My arm out stretched towards whatever it is.

My fingers dig into its ribs. It jumps.

Its eyes are big. Dirty blonde hair flops down on its forehead.

"Who are you?" it asks.

I stare at it for a while. "Err-I was in a shipwreck. And I decided to wander," there's a silence. "Who are you?"

"Pierce," he says.

"You should come with me, there's a doctor in the beach. He can help you."

Pierce nods.

I heave him up with much struggle because although he looks thin, he weighs more than I can carry.

We walk through the house and back towards the beach.

What am I going to tell the others? That I found him while I was talking a walk? They'll never believe that! I ponder.

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