The Whispering Winds (Slow Updates)

Chapter 9: Home, Sweet Home

I followed Hunt silently as we walked the winding footpaths between the houses, stores, and restaurants. Then he started occasionally pointing out things such as "That's the only convince store, and all the kids but gum and candy from there, after school."

After he said one such thing, I replied, "Do you know that man in the chocolate shop-Jimmy? He seemed to know you quite well..."

"Oh him?" Hunt laughed. "That's my grandpa!"

"Oh!" I replied, giggling. We continued to talk all the way to his house. It felt nice to talk to a human besides my parents for once. My parents. A lump caught in my throat, and my laughter died.

"You okay?" Hunt asked, suddenly concerned. I just nodded, unable to say anything because of the lump constricting my throat. Eventually it eased up, as I reminded myself that everything was okay, and everybody would help me find my parents. I breathed easier as we walked up to Hunt's house.

It seemed like a homy place, with a ragged doormat reading "Home, Sweet Home" and a porch swing. Inside, I found that I was right. There were magazines and books on the coffee table, random papers and things scattered on the table along with 4 table mats. But the table could seat six. When Hunt gave me the tour, I didn't pay much attention to what he said downstairs, too amazed by its loveliness to hear a word.

But when we walked upstairs, I came to my senses. "...Right over there is mom's room, and here is my older brother's room. His name is Timothy, and he's
weird. Heres my younger sister's room, her name is Shelly. She's 4, and obsessed with pink. You have been warned. And this. This here, this is my room." I could tell he took pride in it being his. He must've seen the gleam in my eye, for he then said, "I had to share a room with Timothy for year while we were doing some stuff to the house. It was during his darkness/black faze, and boy was it black. He refused to own something unless it was completely black. And seeing as no one is home to 'fix us sandwiches', I supposed we'll have to do it our selves. Bad luck," Hunt finished his speech abruptly, and started laughing hysterically. He laughed even harder when he realized he had been making a speech.

"And that," I said once I stopped laughing, "is how many others meet their fate."

We made our way down to the kitchen, and started preparing a feast, having to stop multiple times for giggle fits.