The Outcasts

Chapter 5

I arrived home that that to find an empty house. My dad's car wasn't in the driveway, so I pulled mine in there instead of parking on the street. I picked up my bag, got out of my car, and went inside. I got a piece of leftover pizza out of the fridge and went to my room to start my homework. After plopping on my bed, I grabbed my chemistry book and notebook out of my bag. Starting the assignment, I wrote out the problems and solved the formulas one by one.

Halfway through, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I put down my pencil and pulled my phone out. It was a Luther calling. I quickly answered since it had already rung twice.

"Hey Luther," I spoke into the phone. "What's up?"

"Not much," he replied monotonously. "I'm working on this stupid chemistry crap and was wondering if you knew the answer to number seventeen."

I reached over and grabbed my notebook. I scanned the page until I found the question he asked for. "Yeah. It's twenty-two grams." I heard the scratch of pencil on paper from the phone. I lay on my bed for a moment, unsure if I should speak or not.

"Alright, thanks," he said. "That's the only one I didn't have the answer to."

"Wait, you're done?" I had only finished the first twenty questions out of forty.

He laughed, he had a great laugh. "Yeah, don't sound so surprised. I am smart, you know." I knew that he was smart, but I was still shocked.

"I know," I fumbled, "but...whatever."

"Okay then Jules," he chuckled again and I felt my face heat up. "So what's up with you, besides homework?"

"Honestly," I started slowly, "nothing. I'm bored out of my mind and don't wanna do this homework anymore."

"I said besides homework," Luther said jokingly.

"That was besides the homework," I said like an angry child.

I heard him breathe out a small laugh and I swore my heart was beating too fast to be considered healthy. "Whatever Jules. How about I come over or something? Or maybe we could go out and do something fun." I thought about his offer for a moment before answering.

"Ok," I said. "Meet me at 110 Norcolm Street in fifteen minutes."

"What's that?" Luther asked. I laughed, somewhat mischievously I suppose.

"You'll see when you get there," I told him. "See you soon." With that, I ended the call and stuck my cellphone into my pocket. I hopped off my bed and went over to my dresser. After releasing my hair from its bun, I grabbed a gray beanie and pulled it on my head. I pulled my car keys out of my bag and headed downstairs toward the front door.

The drive was short, but I had to stop for gas first. When I arrived at 110 Norcolm Street, I didn't see another car there so I just pulled my black Jeep into the empty driveway. The clock in my car read 5:44. I waited patiently. After about a minute, I saw a car driving down the road. It stopped directly in front of the house and I saw that the driver was Luther. He parked right next to the driveway and climbed out of the sleek, black, two-door car. I got out of my car, leaned against my door, and smirked at him. He walked toward me, looking puzzled due to the location of our meetup.

"Jules," he said slowly.

"Luther," I replied, my smirk becoming wider.

"What is this?" He gestured to the house we were standing in front of. I turned around to look at the house. It was in rough shape. There were shingles missing, siding torn off, paint chipped, bricks peeking through underneath, and vines growing on the walls of the enormous old house.

"This," I started. "Is the single most frightening house in all of Chicago. Maybe even in the whole state of Illinois." I started walking towards the battered flight of steps leading to the front door of the only house on the block. When we reached the door, Luther grabbed my arm. I turned to face him.

"What's so special about this place?" He asked.

"Come in and I'll tell you." I opened the door and held it open for him. He ran a hand through his hair and slowly entered the old building. I closed the door behind us and looked at Luther. "About fifty years ago, a family lived here. The Monroes." I grabbed his wrist lightly and pulled him with me toward a rough looking couch in the home's living room.

"Yes, and?" Luther prompted.

We sat down on the couch, looking around the building. There was a grand staircase in the middle of the floor. A chandelier hung on the third floor, cobwebs hanging and diamonds missing. A large kitchen was directly across from the living room, but it looked less than inviting.

"The family was made up of a father, James, a mother, Alexandra, and their two children, Isaiah and Louise. The children would play after school everyday while their mother stayed at home and their father was off at work. James was a doctor. Anyway, they were a well to do family and almost everyone liked them. But one day, James came home from work to find his family killed. Alexandra was found in the kitchen. Isaiah was in the children's playroom. The daughter Louise was laying right on this floor," I pointed down by our feet.

"What happened to them?" Luther's face looked both intrigued and immensely frightened.

"A man came into the house through the back door and shot them. Poor James was helpless, his family brutally murdered while he was away from them. The police tried to catch the killer, but months passed with no success. One night, James comes home from work, completely unaware that the man who killed his family was waiting for him inside. James went into his study to do some work and was found there two days later. He had been shot dead, and left there to rot." Finishing the story, I looked at Luther to see his reaction. He looked like he was going to pee his pants. The bad boy wasn't so tough anymore.

"You mean to tell me that you brought me to the home of a dead family whose killer was never caught?" His face was priceless.

"Exactly," I replied. "I've been here before. No one's here to get us." My joke didn't make him laugh. "You want to explore?"

He shot out of his seat and looked at me like I was crazy. "No. Of course not. This is not somewhere I want to explore." I couldn't contain myself anymore. I burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over on the couch. I clutched my chest and tried to catch my breath.

After a minute, I stood up from the couch. "Sorry, I didn't know you were such a scaredy cat. We can go if you want."

"I'm not a scaredy cat. But yeah, I'd like to leave." He turned and walked to the front door. I jogged to catch up since he was already walking down the front steps. When I reached the bottom, he asked, "Can we go get some food?" I nodded my head and thought about where we should go.

"Pizza?" I asked him.

"Pizza is great," he answered.