dollhouse [brahms heelshire]

1

whenever I listen to this song I think of Brahms ^^

-

"So, when are you coming to see me?"

You laid out on the couch, messing with the strings of your hoodie. This house was too boring. They didn't even have a television.

"Probably tonight, or tomorrow. I just woke up from a century old nap, the jet lag was terrible." You exaggerated. You yawned, shifting on the cushions. "I'll take a shower and see you soon."

Your mother groaned. "Please stay safe on the roads. It's already late and it takes an hour to get here. I don't like you being alone with a stranger in the dark." She fussed.

You'd like to think she was just being protective. And you almost wanted to reply with a bitter come back. Why didn't you just let me stay at your house?

But you knew why she wouldn't let you. Her new lover was there and she didn't have the courage to introduce you two yet. She hasn't said anything about him to you, but you had enough evidence to suspect. A male voice in the background of your phone calls, the relationship post on Facebook.

"I'll be okay, I'm a big girl." You rolled your eyes.

You heard her scoff. "You're still my baby. I'll make your favorite for dinner, make lots of leftovers for you to bring to your air bed."

"Airbnb."

"Whatever." Her annoyance was heard. "Takeout is unhealthy. I'll let you go so you can get ready. I love you, sweet pea."

"Love you too."

She hung up, and you let out a sigh of relief. It really did feel like a century old nap. You almost forgot where you were once you woke up.

Hearing all those stories about this house and what went on within it only seemed like a fever dream. No matter how much you tried to shake it off and convince yourself it was in the past, the history was haunting you in the back of your mind.

Haunting.

That odd feeling that you were being watched, should've been just put aside as paranoia. But even as you walked through the halls, you felt your shoulders tighten, and your breathing quicken. You couldn't relax, or pretend like nothing was there.

Maybe a hot bath will help.

All of the bedroom doors that weren't yours were locked. You noticed that when you got curious enough to try and peek inside. Maybe the landlord only wanted you living in the spaces you rented, which made sense.

But you were still curious.

You ran your hand along the walls as you made your way to the bathroom, still taking in and memorizing every antique detail of the mansion.

You could feel the wood paneling behind the wallpaper of the walls. Maybe that's why the house was always so cold. There was only hollow bones holding this place together. Bitterly, you thought that it would've been in the landlords best interest to just tear the whole place down and build it back up again.

Something more modern, and warm.

The paintings that all hung on the wall clearly were commissioned by the Heelshires. All paintings of the house in different angles, of the family.

One painting in particular, a family portrait with the two elderly couple standing behind a young boy, their hands on his shoulders, their eyes enlightened with adoration. You paused just to analyze it.