𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞.

𝟏

[𝟏]
[𝑴𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

"Oliver!" Abigail's voice pierced the hustle and bustle of their packing. "Yes, Mom?" Oliver replied, his tone a mixture of readiness and anticipation.

The day was marked by cardboard boxes and a sense of transition as Oliver and Abigail methodically packed their belongings, preparing for a new chapter in their lives.

In the doorway, Abigail observed Oliver carefully as he arranged his things. "Did you happen to take the writing award from your dad's possessions?" she inquired, her gaze focused on her son.

"No, Mom, I wouldn't touch Dad's things," Oliver responded firmly, his head shaking in denial. An exasperated sigh escaped Abigail's lips, and she shook her head in frustration.

"If I discover that you've taken it, I swear—"

"I didn't take it, Mom! Please, just give me some space," Oliver groaned, gently closing his bedroom door. From the other side, he listened to his mother's annoyed muttering as her footsteps faded away. He moved swiftly to his bed, lifting the mattress to reveal the cherished writing award. A soft smile played on his lips as he admired it for a moment, before cautiously glancing at his door and slipping it into his backpack.

Seated in the passenger seat of the car, Oliver watched the world outside rush by. The wind streamed in through the open window, tousling his hair as he contemplated the journey ahead.

"Oliver, please, shut that cat up!" Abigail pleaded, her frustration evident as Bones, Oliver's cat, continued to meow restlessly in the backseat.

"He just doesn't handle car rides well, Mom. He'll settle down soon," Oliver replied, his voice soothing, as he climbed into the backseat to retrieve Bones from his carrier, determined to calm the anxious feline.

Ah, Brightwood, the new town on the horizon.

Population: 1,008.

It's tough leaving behind our old home.

So many memories linger within those familiar walls...

Yet, Mom seems determined to leave it all behind.

Even my father's belongings...

But...

I can't deny, there's an excitement brewing in me for this move to Brightwood.

I've always held a fascination for the peculiar and the bizarre.

In the strangest of places, I find a certain kind of beauty.

Oliver shouldered the weight of his bags as he entered their new abode. It was a quaint house nestled in a charming, close-knit neighborhood, and Oliver found its coziness rather appealing.

"Go unpack, Oliver. Your room is up the stairs, first door on the left," Abigail instructed, her voice muffled by the stack of boxes she was carrying into the kitchen.

Acknowledging her instructions with a nod, Oliver, with his faithful feline companion Bones cradled in his arms, ascended the staircase to his room.

As he entered his room, Oliver couldn't help but sigh, surveying the emptiness around him. The stark white walls rendered the space plain and uninteresting.