Screaming at the Stars

Invasive Greeting

After I'd stood there, moping in the driveway for a few seconds while staring at the house, I finally grabbed my remaining suitcase and duffel bag and slowly followed Claudia on the dirt path, into the house.

The first things that caught my eye when I walked inside were the paintings. They were everywhere, and they were all landscapes. I saw plains, mountains, forests, savannas, oceans, and lots more. My family and I couldn't help but stare in awe, it's not what you would've expected from the cookie-cutter exterior.

"These are beautiful! Where are they from?" My mom asked while my dad and I gaped at all the walls. There had to be hundreds of them, and each painting was so different.

"Oh! Well you see, we used to have this neighbor who lived about a mile and a half into the woods behind the house. A very, very kind old man, but as he got older he wasn't in his right mind anymore. But, when he was younger and more lucid, he was a painter. He painted all of these because he said these were the places he wanted to visit. Unfortunately the poor man didn't get to see all of these places, he died about a year ago, in his sleep, I believe. He lived with his son and his grandson. The grandson gave us these paintings because once in a while we would visit to bring cookies and see how they were doing. He said he didn't want to keep them because he had no use for them, and he told us that his father didn't either. In fact I don't think they had any close relatives to give them to, though, and that's the reason he gave them to us. Isn't that sad? The boy still lives there. His father doesn't seem to be around very much, the boy was always alone with his grandfather whenever we would go. I wonder how he's doing, the poor dear. We haven't visited in a while..."

If someone asked me to describe my aunt Rachelle in one word, I wouldn't hesitate for a second to say talkative. If there's one thing she's good at, it's the ability to ramble for hours and fill silence. I wonder if she realizes when she hasn't allowed anyone to contribute to a conversation for 10 minutes. I mean, how could you not?

I was pretty interested in the paintings, and intrigued by the story of the old man and the boy, but then Rachelle became distracted once more by showing my parents a couch that was apparently from Spain, and I found myself bored out of my mind. I turned to Claudia.

"Could you show me upstairs?" I asked her. I didn't need a tour of the living room. The Spanish couch and the love seats couldn't be too hard to navigate.

She nodded her head and turned to the staircase. We walked all the way in awkward silence, until she led me to the ugliest room I have ever seen. It was pretty huge, with light yellow walls, and two beds on opposite sides of the room. One of them had a canopy and was covered in pale purple blankets and pillows, and the other was a regular queen size that didn't have any sheets on it yet, which would obviously be mine. There was a large bay window with frilly, blue curtains next to the canopy bed, and a small dresser next to the other one.

There was a dramatic difference between both sides of the room, I could tell that Claudia had taken a lot of time to make sure that each of our sides didn't clash. I was pretty grateful for that, actually, if you saw her side, you wouldn't want yours to look anything like it.

We walked over to my side of the room and placed my suitcases next to the bed. Actually, I placed my suitcases next to the bed. She sort of just let them fall over as she set them down carelessly.

"So," she began, sitting down on the fuzzy pink rug that separated our beds. (It was an atrocious rug, in case you were wondering.) "What do you think?" She gestured to the entire room with her hands.

I didn't know how to respond...I mean I hated it. Pastels gave me a headache, and they filled the entire room. Not to mention all the posters of popular male artists that made my ears bleed, most of them were shirtless too. My side of the room was very plain compared to the rest of it though. At least that was one good thing. I hesitated before answering her. "It's cool," I said simply. "It's a lot bigger than my old room. And very..." I looked around. "Very...colorful."

"Thanks," she beamed. "It's a lot bigger than most people's rooms. And I picked out the colors and decorated the whole thing. Except your side. We'll decorate it once you get settled in, so that it doesn't mix with mine."

"Okay....sounds good." I responded, not really knowing what else to say. I'm not good at small talk. I hate it anyway. It's dull and it only creates a bigger barrier between people. You're not using it to get to know them, just to fill the silence.

Claudia spoke up again. "So what's in your backpack?"

"Sorry?" My stomach twisted slightly.

She sighed before repeating herself, as if it was impossible to get through to me. "I said what's in your backpack? What, are you hiding something in there?" She eyed the black backpack on the floor by my feet.

I was taken aback by the question. "Oh, well it's not big deal I just sort of have some things that I just like to keep with me."

"Like what?" She asked.

"Nothing really, just a couple things."

I could see her eyes narrow as she stared at my bag and then back at me. I really didn't want to share, but I could see she wasn't going to let this go. I didn't want to make her think I was hiding things, she seemed like the type to jump to conclusions if you don't give her a solid answer. I finally gave in to her stare, reluctantly opened my bag and began taking things out and placing them on the bed.

I laid everything down next to each other. First my phone, then my wallet, then my headphones, then my glasses that I don't wear that often, a small pile of books that included my copy of Romeo and Juliet (hey, it's a classic) and some gum. (cinnamon, it's way better than any other kind) I had a bunch of little random things everywhere, like a hair tie or a gum wrapper or some chapstick, but the main things that I felt so protective over were my camera and my photo album. I'd saved up for over a year to buy that camera, but it was out of battery so it didn't matter as much. It was the photo album that I didn't want her looking at.

The reasoning behind that was that there were pictures of Davie in there. It was my Davie photo album. I captured all his birthdays, all our pillow fights, all of our family trips and the things that made him smile. All of that was over now. I never looked in it anymore but it was one of the most important things I owned.

Claudia came to the edge of the bed to look at all my stuff. My heart started beating quickly even before she started poking around. She flipped through some of my books, and opened my wallet to check and see what was inside. She tried to turn on my camera, then gave up when it wouldn't work. She took a piece of gum without asking, and tried on my glasses.

Watching her touch all of my stuff made me angry. Really, angry. I'm not one to overreact, or blow up, but she was invading my privacy and I felt like I couldn't stop her. I clenched my fists and didn't say anything.

"Is that all?" She asked, a puzzled look crossing her face once she was finished. I guess she'd been expecting to find out some sort of huge secret I was trying to hide. She never even touched my photo album, which made my heart beat at a normal pace again.

"Yeah, that's all," I said, shoving everything back into my bag and hugging to my chest.

After that, Claudia went over to her bed and started reading a magazine. I started to put my clothes away in the small dresser. Every couple of minutes, I caught her looking at me again.

By the looks she was giving me, she obviously thought I was a complete weirdo.

Oh well. I thought she was a nosy bitch.

Montana was getting better and better.