The Dreadful Dreamer's Collection

Go Home, Young Man- April 10th, 2022

There was a young man who always looked up his street through his kitchen window to the house at the end of the cul de sac. It was an ornate white house with a red brick driveway where the letter 'M' contrasted in the bricks as it was made of white material. There was a fountain at the front and a double-door entrance that welcomed guests. The young man never saw the owners of the house before, but he was curious who they were because he had taken a liking to their daughter who lived there. He believed that she, too, took a fancy to him.

All of the other houses on the street were copies of one another with an early 1900s aesthetic about them all. But this house at the end of the street stood out against the rest. It was the only white building that was tall and housed objects that alluded to the owner's wealth, which the rest of the people on the street clearly did not have.

On one fateful day, the mystery family decided to host an Open House to the neighborhood where they would open their doors for all to see the grandeur within. The young man was anxious for this experience, as he hoped he could see their daughter another time. He put on his best mustard sweater vest and red tie. He put gel in his black hair and tried to remove the scuffs from his only decent brown shoes. As he left his modest home, he noticed that many others around him were also gathering down to the house. Perhaps everyone was intrigued as much as he was to witness the magic of the interior.

Once everyone gathered near the water fountain and double-door entrance, a skinny woman welcomed everyone to the home. She had short hair and wore a black dress. The neighborhood residents filed into a single line as she began the tour of her home. The foyer was elegant yet simple. The sunroom held massive plants that hung from the ceiling and grew from pots on the floor. Her round husband remained in a leather recliner reading the newspaper as though none of the guests existed. Around the corner from the sunroom, the house opened up into an entire greenhouse, though it was more homey than the one you would go to. The floor turned brick with an occasional mosaic piece wedged in. There were countertops and minimalistic chairs everywhere. In the middle of the large room stood a freestanding kitchen complete with counters and plates. It was no wonder why the young man always ran into their daughter near the florist shop.

The tour was over now, and people were leaving in small clusters. As the young man began to make his exit, the daughter stopped him. She asked her mother if the young man could come back inside because she wanted to show him all the plants. The mother knew the young man was not of their status and was raggedy. It was a threatening 'yes' to the daughter that made her elated to bring him back inside. She showed the young man all of the plants inside as her mother watched on bitterly from afar. But as a few hours fell away, the mother approached both of them and asked if they wanted to make dinner. They agreed, and immediately the daughter began plucking pots of spinach and other greens from the rows of plants.

"Do you know your plants?" The mother sneered at the young man.

"I do! Here, add kale!" The young man was shaky and immediately snatched the plant closest to him that would pair well with the salad the daughter was making.

"Remember to put the sticks back into the plants." The mother impatiently sighed. It was strange to the young man to hear her words because none of the sticks had names of the plants written on them.

The daughter finished making the salad and pulled a few ingredients from the refrigerator at the center of the large indoor garden. The two of them ate the greens in peace, but the peace was soon disrupted by the mother's invigorating screams.

"I told you to put the sticks back in the pots!" She boiled with rage far more than was necessary.

"Both of you, follow me!" She fumed her way up the stairs that the young man remembered in the simple foyer. They feebly followed along behind her. She took them down a hallway and into an empty room. A small skylight window was the only source of light that brightened the room. She locked them inside the empty room and instructed them that she would be back once she decided on a punishment.

After pacing the room frantically and sliding his back against the plain wall, the young man sighed, wondering what was to become of himself. The daughter stared with dead eyes at the dusty floor without making a noise.

When the door opened again to reveal the daughter's mother, the young man jumped to his feet while her daughter shifted her gaze miserably. They were guided back down the stairs, through the foyer, and past the sunroom. But what awaited was not the plant room the young man remembered, but rather an aged toy shop of some sort. All of the shelves and bins were made of wood, and the kitchen was replaced by a counter with an old cash register.

"Each of you must find a gold egg before the time runs out." The mother flatly stated. The young man wondered what would happen if he failed. He looked at the daughter and she responded with a nod. They split up to scour the shop. Stuffed animals were mercilessly thrown from the shelves and every container was under investigation. Ten minutes past. Twelve.

"Three minutes left!" The mother hummed, bemused by the immersive struggle of her daughter and the boy.

"I've got one!" The daughter smiled as she held it in her hand above her head. Even though she found herself a golden egg, she turned to help the young man find one for himself.

"Time is up!" The mother announced, and as she did, her daughter tossed her own egg to the young man, leaving her without one.

"What a shame, daughter. Because you have the egg you are free to go." The young man hesitated, asking what would happen to the daughter. Because of his firmness to stay until given an answer, the mother threatened after him and personally escorted him out of the house. Even as he remained on the front step, she beat him and kicked him down until he fled the scene severely injured. He walked back down the street to his house, wondering what would happen to the daughter.

Days went by, and the young man could not bring himself to leave his home, let alone stare up at the house that had damaged him for good. He carried the gold egg in his pocket, thinking about the girl who had saved his life. It was no surprise to him when one day, as he read the newspaper, an image of the daughter appeared on the one page. He read the story below it, and discovered that she was killed in her home.