¿ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀʟ? ✰𝔸𝕝𝕖𝕩 𝕋𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝟙-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

✰. 17.5

The Girl Across the Street (2)

✰

It's been a week since Alex visited your home. During the week, he would think about everything he saw and heard the moment he was there. One thing for certain is that your family wasn't the best. He wanted to know why.

He woke up on an early Friday morning to the sound of a garage opening. Usually, he would be getting ready for school, but they gave the students a break so they could have fun and enjoy the winter holidays.

He rubbed his eyes to get rid of sleep and flicked one blind open to see who the hell was making noise at six a.m. He saw your well-dressed parents enter their car and pull out of the home. He focused his eyes on the car and let out a breath when he saw the back seat empty. You were in the house.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Unfortunately, you were woken up at an ungodly hour because you had to prepare your parents shit so they could go to this business event that would take two days. You took a quick shower and put on formal yet casual clothes. You didn't want to dress like this, but it wasn't your choice to choose.

You went down stairs, put on an apron, and immediately started to work on cooking their breakfast as they got ready. You boiled water on the stove for their tea, and you cut up onions and tomatoes to add to their omelet. You stirred the coffee and added a bit of milk into each one and stirred again while looking out into the hazy morning.

"There's a chance it might rain. I don't want you to go out. Especially with that boy across the street; don't let him in," your mom spoke as she watched what you did in the kitchen. She was always the first one down, besides you, of course. She took her seat at the table and fixed the makeup around her eyes.

You stayed quiet at her words and plated her food. You brought her plate with her coffee and put it in front of her along with utensils. You plated your father's food and placed it at his seat on the table once he came down to eat. You stood back like a waiter and waited for both of them to finish their food so you could wash the dishes altogether. You watched as they ate, feeling hungry yourself, yet you had to wait.

Thankfully, breakfast had no interruptions, and they enjoyed their food. You collected the plates and put them on the side of the sink so you can wash each one individually. Both your parents collected their items and made their way to the door.

Before your mom could close the door, she reminded you, "Don't open the door to him." And she shut the door and locked it.

You heard the car roll out of the garage, and you finally slumped your shoulders. You were so tired of the old routine. Maybe... Alex could help. You sighed and continued scrubbing until all of the dishes were clean. You took off the apron and dried your hands before walking upstairs to your room. Sitting down at the vanity, you used very light and natural makeup. Your parents never let you use it unless it was for business purposes, but you used it behind their back. It made you feel pretty.

You stood by your window and peered over one of the blinds. You saw Alex's house; no sign of anyone up. Who would be up at this time either way? Surely not him. A part of you did wish though that you would see him skedaddle across the street and knock on your door, yelling at you to let him in. You let that thought go, and your mind drifted to another thing. The piano. You were ordered to not touch it or even play it, but it was the only thing to keep you sane in this abyss of boringness.

You made it down the stairs and sat down on the piano bench. You placed your hands gently on the keys and thought on which piece to play. Your music folder was taken away from you, so now you had nothing to read off of. Only your memory.