Tales of Gloomsdale #1: The Hidden Attic

Chapter Two

Matt stared glumly up at his new house. It was much bigger than his old house, and he had to admit, a lot nicer. He could see balconies higher up next to the chimney, along with dark shutters and ivy crawling up the walls glistening with fresh rain. Even the front yard was wider than back home, with a small lake drenched with rainwater and a tall treehouse.

"This is so cool!" Willow exclaimed, running over the wet grass to the treehouse. "It's way bigger than Matt's house! No offense, Mrs. Wilson. I love my room and all, but it was so small." Probably because it was Mom's old sewing room, Matt thought.

"I thought it would cost a fortune, but it was surprisingly cheap," Mr. Davis added. "Probably because—"

"I've never had a treehouse before," Willow enthused as she began climbing the wet steps.

"Willow, get down from there!" Mr. Davis warned.

"Aren't we a little old for a treehouse?" Matt scoffed, keeping his head lowered as the remaining rain poured from overhead.

Willow ignored them. As her foot got caught in the hem of her dress, she went tumbling back down, clutching desperately at the slippery trunk to no avail. Her father ran over as she landed in a heap on the muddy ground.

"I always tell you to be more careful," Mr. Davis scolded while helping Willow to her feet. Willow quickly shook herself off, brushing her wet curls back and flicking the mud off her dress.

Matt quickly hurried over as well while Willow brushed mud off the hoodie. "Thanks a lot. You ruined my hoodie."

"It was already ruined," Willow quipped, taking it off while throwing it to Matt.

"You can't enter our new house like that, Willow," Mr. Davis scolded.

"He's right," Matt added. "Don't worry, I'm sure the rain will wash you off. Just stay out here for a few more minutes."

Willow glared at him. "Very funny."

"Cut it out, you two," Mrs. Wilson called. "Come help me with the boxes. Don't you want to see our new house?"

"I do!" Willow called, beginning to run over before her father pulled her back. She groaned as he pulled a towel out of the suitcase and began drying her off.

"I don't," Matt muttered, unenthusiastically following his mother.

"Come on, Matt. Give the place a chance," Mrs. Wilson insisted. "Willow is right. It's much larger and nicer than our old house. Wait until you see inside, you'll be blown away. You'll probably end up loving it."

"I'd love it more if those two weren't tagging along," Matt griped.

His mother frowned at him. "I wish you'd give them a chance, Matt. This isn't easy for them either, you know."

"Sure seems easy for them," Matt quipped, looking over to Mr. Davis and Willow laughing and kicking mud at each other despite trying to dry Willow off moments before.

"Keep your voice down," Mrs. Wilson scolded. "Do you want them to hear you? They've been very kind to us."

But no matter how kind they are, they won't replace Dad, Matt thought. Luckily, he had enough sense not to say that.

"Come on, Matt. At least give the place a look," Mrs. Wilson insisted, pointing up at the tallest balcony under the shingles of the gray roof. "Look, your room is up there."

Matt grudgingly glanced up. He had to admit that he did like the placement of his new room. It was high and isolated, away from everyone else. But he still wasn't thrilled about moving.