Dice [h.s.]

58

"We are all museums of fear." -Charles Bukowski

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Kennedy's POV

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The day was dark as rain clouds began to form in the sky. The feeling of slow forming rain hit against my cheeks as I walked the steps to Harry's front door. I went to knock, but I knew no one would be there.

I pulled out the key Natalie had given me. It was a skeleton key. A key to open mostly any of the doors in the house. All except the one I'm probably looking for. Before I opened the door, I checked behind my back.

The rest of my days until Leonardo is off this planet will consist of constantly looking over my shoulder. There is no longer a safe place for me. Not like there ever was in the first place.

I pushed the key into the door and unlocked it, hearing the crisp sound of the lock. I pushed the door open and immediately gasped. It wasn't a surprised gasp, it was a sad gasp.

The house was sadder than usual. The lights were off, the only source of light being natural. Everything was gray and the same. Except the quiet tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.

I locked the door behind me, stepping into the threshold. I placed the skeleton key on the side table beside the couch, along with my jacket and gun. My trash bag laid beside the front door.

Looking around the room, all I could feel was emptiness. It felt like all the emotion that had previously been built into the walls had been sucked away. It felt like my childhood home. Empty.

I ran my fingers tips on the top of the couch, watching the memories flood back. But as I did, I remembered they were all unpleasant. The time he came back after Ryleigh died. Or a few days ago, when he nearly bled out.

Were there really any good emotions in these walls?

This home isn't really home. It's weaved a tapestry of beauty to conceal the pain and emptiness at its core. I've never realized how dark the black furniture really is. Or how off white the white is.

This place isn't peaceful, it's destroyed.

Ignoring my urge to turn any lights on and grabbed my trash bag from the front door and my gun and ran up the stairs. The upstairs was eerier than downstairs. Maybe because of all the closed doors leading to new heaps of sadness.

I turned into Harry' room, turning on the lights. The first thing to catch my eye was the droplets of blood on the side of Harry's bed he had slept on a few days ago. He was bleeding, but I was too stressed to notice.

Was he in pain?

I threw my bag on the bed and walked over to the blood. It had seeped into the white sheets by now. There was no way you were getting that out. I could have tried, but there would be no point.

I pulled the comforter over the stains, shielding any more misery from the house. Even though it's already embedded. I opened my trash bag of things and laid it all out on the bed.

I changed out of this hideous dress and put on leggings and a tight striped crop top. I needed to shower, but I couldn't. I couldn't do that while I was alone. I couldn't risk something like that in this huge house.

As soon as I was changed, the realization of my purpose here settled in. I had to unlock that office. The secret office that I've never seen him go in. I looked around the room, searching for something small enough to lock pick.