𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 • 𝐌𝐉

𝟏

One: Something New

〄

Julie awoke with a wide smile, her body still wrapped in the warmth of the morning sun that spilled through her window. The soft glow seemed to promise a good day ahead. She sat up, stretching her arms high above her head, feeling the tension leave her body as she yawned deeply. Her disheveled hair, wild and unruly from sleep, tumbled across her face, and with an exaggerated puff, she blew the strands out of her eyes. The gesture, small as it was, filled her with a sense of carefree ease.

Downstairs, the unmistakable sound of sizzling bacon drifted up through the house, accompanied by the rich, savory scent of eggs frying in butter. The aroma was irresistible, the kind that brought with it a nostalgic comfort—a smell that always made their house feel like home. Julie wriggled out from beneath her sheets, the soft cotton sticking slightly to her legs, revealing her simple sleepwear of a worn t-shirt and shorts. She slid her feet into her well-loved gray slippers, feeling the cool morning air against her skin.

A sudden urgency stirred within her—a familiar pressure. She needed to pee. She groaned slightly, knowing the daily struggle with Jack for access to their single bathroom was about to begin. Deciding not to waste time, Julie darted out of her room and made her way downstairs. The hallway creaked beneath her light steps, the well-worn carpet muffling the sound, as she hurried past the kitchen.

Jack was standing over the stove, spatula in hand. His dark hair was still a mess from sleep, but his focus was on the food. He glanced up as Julie passed by, raising an eyebrow at the sight of her chaotic bedhead. Some strands of her hair stuck out in every possible direction, while others hung limply down her back. Despite the wild look, Julie barely acknowledged him, heading straight for the bathroom.

Jack smirked to himself as he plated the crispy bacon and perfectly scrambled eggs. He switched off the stove, grabbing two plates and setting them down on the counter. The clatter of dishes echoed slightly in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Julie reappeared a few minutes later, her hands still damp from washing them. She slid into the chair at the counter, her movements slow, as if the weight of sleep still clung to her limbs. Her eyes, half-lidded and slightly red from the lingering drowsiness, drifted toward Jack. He turned toward her with an easy smile, holding out a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. His voice carried the familiar warmth of their routine, "Good mornin', Jules."

"Mornin'," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and yawning softly as she picked up her fork, still trying to shake off the fog of sleep.

Jack eyed her with a teasing grin, "You sure crazy hair day isn't today?"

Julie chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Says the guy whose hair looks like he's been electrocuted every mornin'." She raked her fingers through her tangled hair, trying to tame it half-heartedly.

With mock offense, Jack handed her a napkin. "At least I try. You look like you wrestled a tornado."

Julie stuck out her tongue, and Jack mirrored her, their sibling banter as comfortable as their morning routine. They settled into the calm rhythm of eating, forks clinking lightly against their plates.

A sudden thought crossed Julie's mind, one that shifted the playful atmosphere. "Hey, I heard about those kids down the road," she said cautiously, watching Jack's reaction out of the corner of her eye. "Did you find the bodies?"

For a split second, Jack's face hardened, his playful demeanor vanishing. He froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. His mind raced back to the night he had chased those kids—the adrenaline still vivid in his memory. They had been vandalizing the old barn on the outskirts of town, laughing as they ran, and he'd given chase. But when he caught up, something far worse than graffiti happened, had made his heart pound with fear. The sight had been so horrifying that Jack had turned and run, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.