𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 , 𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲

09

"...You have to kill Gale Weathers..."

__

The shadow of Stu's house loomed over the three of us. I felt tiny compared to the house. For God's sake, some of the windows were taller than me! I didn't remember Stu's house being as huge as it was, but it had been a while since I had visited the huge home, so it was entirely possible my memory wasn't as strong as I thought. Billy; however, used to the house, just jerked my wrist forward, forcing me to climb up the porch's stairs.

The two of us stood at the top step waiting for Stu to invite us into the house. In his usual dramatic flare, Stu stood in front of his door, arms spread out like an eagle's wings, announcing rather loudly, "Mi casa es su casa!"

With the invitation, Billy and I waltzed to the door where Stu stood, ready to go in. Before Stu got the chance to open the door, I flicked my fingers at his forehead, "Didn't you flunk Spanish?"

Stu pushed out his bottom lip as he whined about my cruelty, saying how my comment was a 'low blow!' I pinched his cheek as I let out a "Poor baby!" Billy pressed his chin on top of my shoulder as he laughed quietly at our antics. I turned my head to Billy, making our noses brush against each other, "Okay, but didn't he fail Spanish? I'm right!"

"Yeah, he did. Twice," Billy snickered.

I stuck my tongue out, taunting Stu. Returning my immaturity, Stu gave both our heads a shove. With a mouth full of giggles, Billy and I entered Stu's house. It was just as big and stunning as the outside. My eyes latched onto everything I could see from the TV, couch, kitchen entryway, and the staircase that lead upstairs. It was majestic. The ornate structures down to the pricey but beautiful decor that gave a sense of personality to the home were utterly breathtaking. Too bad it would be destroyed in the blood bath that was incoming in a few hours. I grimaced at the thought. Stu motioned with his head for us to go up the stairs. Since he was our host, Billy and I followed after him like ducklings following their mother.

The upstairs was just as impressive as the downstairs with a long, winding, hallway that led to doors that yearned to be open. I counted at least 5 doors before I was pushed into a bedroom on the right side of the hall. My legs stumbled forward into the room as Billy and Stu stood on either side of me, hands locked around my wrist. It seemed to be a guest bedroom. My way of entering the room wasn't ideal, but the room's comfortable atmosphere made up for it. It truly felt like I had rented a 5-star hotel room. A large, king-sized bed sat in the middle, a large, mahogany dresser that held up the TV, and a window outlooking the front of the Macher house to describe the room without getting carried away in its perfection.

"You like it?" Stu questioned me. I nodded, mindlessly; with a "Yeah," too busy trying to absorb the room and all it occupied. Billy had left my side, sitting on the enormous bed as I remained awkwardly standing by the door with Stu. It was my first time in the room, so despite nervousness being an emotion that I had figured was long gone with the two boys accompanying me, the sweat collecting on the back of my nape was proving me otherwise. I wasn't sure if it was the fact I was in a bedroom alone with the two, or if it was because a massacre was going to happen very soon right under my nose. Possibly both.