Missing Puzzle Pieces

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Dear Jesus,

I stared up at the mansion-like building as our jeep zoomed in with my lips slightly parted.
If I had been limited only to the physical view, I'd have no doubt begun reconsidering my promise to my parents not to allow anything take me away from them.

The building was ultra-modern. The bright flowers and freshly trimmed lawn gave the place a rainbow-y glow. About four or so flashy automobiles were parked in the executive carpark, almost making our ride look like a fading shadow.

I, however, could see past the veil, and it was no pretty sight to behold, that's for sure. There were a handful of malevolent demons around. Ugly, drooling, flying and creeping monsters leered at our company. Few angels in sight.

I stepped out of the car and walked alongside my parents towards the house's entrance. I guessed they'd never come here before.
Their wowed reaction was therefore understandable. Dad, however, was doing a great job at masking it.

I rang the doorbell.
A man, the perfect picture of a butler, answered the door. He wore a pressed white shirt and black trousers. He even had a mustache which he twirled out of habit as he politely asked us who we came to see.
How classic! I mean, who even twirls mustaches (except evil villains in movies) these days?

When this man, who I later gathered was the chief servant, realized who we were, his disposition changed to respect.
"Come on in. We've been expecting you," he said.

With a deep breath, a prayer in my heart and an obligatory smile, I took courage and followed him in with my dad and mom.

We walked past a lobby lined from top to bottom with beautiful abstract portraits. I was sure they must have been bought at neck-breaking prices at some fancy art gallery auction.

I wished Kathy was there with me. She'd have been able to make something of these sketches and splashes of paint that were threatening to blind my eyes.
I miss that girl like.
She called me early this morning, asking about my well-being, telling me she missed me too. I feel bad about keeping this whole thing from her.

I'd give it to my grandparents. They had an exquisite aesthetic taste.

"You're welcome to this humble villa. Your host will be out to see you very soon. Please make yourself comfortable," Mr butler man recited as we sat.

Two uniformed young ladies appeared with trays laden with snacks, fancy nuts (I saw cashew nuts, macadamia nuts, almonds, chestnuts, name it) and cold drinks of brands we could normally not afford. They placed it noiselessly on the glass elliptical centre table. We were left alone.

The sitting room was too bright, thanks to the ceiling-to-floor windows-with thick cream-coloured drapes pulled back-that overlooked the exterior.

Mom and I darted our eyes around the area, craning our necks subtly, trying to drink it all in. I couldn't read Dad's expression.

I sat, rehearsing in my mind what I'd do once they showed up.
Would they like me? Did I somehow know them before? Oh God, why did I have to wear such a simple dress? I should have chosen my best clothes.

I felt like an alien pauper whose wacky spaceship had accidentally landed in the middle of a royal ball.

Mom held my hand and I looked at her. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," I whispered.
She kept looking at me with those soul-searching eyes.
I sighed and said, "No, actually. I'm scared."

"Don't be. We're here with you." She held me close.

"It's not because I want to meet my real grandparents for the first time," I whispered against her chest. "There are demons in this place."

Dad heard that and looked at us.

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