LAKEHOUSE

Emma

I was not happy. Not only was I covered in mud, but my phone and headphones had inexplicably decided to quit.

"Raven!" I growled angrily.

The astounded, and quit dirty twelve-year old with lamp black hair and bright green eyes stared up at me in both fear and excitement, and the fact he'd thrown mud on purpose.

"Come on outside, I wanna show you something!" He was excited, and to be honest, I could never stay mad at him for long.

"Fine, just let me get a change of clothes."

Three minutes later I was standing in the street, trying to look at something he was pointing at. Raven was gesturing wildly at the sky, but all I could see were clouds, and air.

"Look," I realized his finger gravitated more towards a tree. Which was home to a grumpy old crow that sat there all day, watching people.

"The crow? Raven, we see that crow every day," I put my hand on my hips, and started back for our small apartment building.

"No, I mean yes, but he's different, you can see it in his eyes," Raven got that misty look on his face when he zoned out.

I stopped, stared at him for a few seconds, then looked back at the crow. Something did seem a bit off. Perhaps it had moved a few inches to the left? It still looked like an ordinary bird to me. Raven was still staring, and with nothing happening, I wanted to go back inside.

"Raven come on, it's cold out here," I pleaded, walking towards him.

He winced when I touched his shoulder, as if he hadn't heard me come up behind him.

"Come on," surprisingly, he let me lead him back inside, but as soon as opened the door, he dashed about the room, muttering something about his sketchbook.

I shook my head in confusion, my brother was a bit eccentric. He was a little obsessed with anything magical. When he was younger Dad told me he used to pretend to talk to fairies, then he stopped, much to everyone's relief. And his sketchbook became his best friend.

I sat down and with nothing better to do, switched on the TV. Some movie with, you guessed it, little flying creatures that sprinkled magic dust dust everywhere was on. I watched for a few minutes, and behind me, I could Raven come downstairs, in his quiet manner that freaked me out. I tried to ignore him as he stared at the screen for a while.

"That's not what they look like," he mumbled quietly to himself.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

He just continued to stare as if deeply troubled. I saw his sketchbook in his hand, open to a single page, facing upwards. I had personally never seen his sketchbook, he rarely let anyone see. I only knew he was a brilliant artist when he drew stuff for school, or I caught him doodling at random times.

So while he was busy gaping at the tv, I sat real straight and glanced over, then nearly lost my composure. I wanted to congratulate him, but I also wanted to sit down and have a heart to heart on why he would be driven to draw something like this.

It was a faerie, I think, just because it had the wing thing going on, but it was horribly wounded and looked more like a zombie that the pretty girls zipping across the television screen. Her mouth was open in a horrible scream, and she was ripping her wings off...

Raven grasped it closer to his chest when he caught me staring. He threw me a death glare and went back up to his room. I was left feeling dazed and confused, was he going through something? Did he feel depressed, was he not telling us something? I felt worried for him, but a voice in my head was also reminding me that it could just be a drawing. What sparked it though? I shivered at the thought, I would tell Dad later, he would know what to do.

I lifted up the remote and switched to my favorite shows. I've had enough with faeries for the day.

After I got my headphones back online, I'd say my day was considerably better. I droned out the rest of the world, enjoying my favorite bands, letting music carry me into a place only I could go. If you're an older sibling, you understand that it is not possible to make through the day with without headphones.

I heard the door open downstairs, and yanked them out. Rushing downstairs and jumping into my father's arms.

"You're home!" I squealed.

He smiled, but I soon saw something was wrong. Parents don't realize it, but it's so obvious when they're upset.

"We have to talk." He said.

He pulled Raven down from his room. The boy was still clutching the sketchbook warily. He paced in front of the tv, running his hand through his messy brown hair. Raven and I were on the couch.

"I was fired today."

I got that cold feeling in my stomach but he continued on.

"I've known it was coming for a while now, and I can no longer afford to pay the rent in this house-"

"So we're moving." Raven spoke up.

He nodded. "My grandmother had this old farmhouse before she died, your uncle doesn't want so I inherited it. We leave in two days."

"Wait, hold a second." I held my hand up. "Okay, my life is here, my friends are here, we haven't been to that old musty farm house in...a long time." My voice trailed.

Dad looked away, Raven played with the paper on the edge of his sketchbook. I swallowed dryly. We hadn't been there since mom passed away. She would love to make up stories about the house hen we went there for summer. Five years ago she got sick, and just passed away in her sleep. Dad has been struggling for a job since.

"I know, but it's the only place we have left."

That's how my life ended.