Silence » a.i

0.2

I walked back into the house to find the smell of haddock fill my nose. I loved my mom's baked haddock so much that it made me completely forget about my conversation with Michael and the supposedly haunted house across the street. I followed my nose into the kitchen to find my mom mixing up some instant mashed potatoes.

"Hey mom." I greeted, peeking over her shoulder into the pot.

"How was your walk?" she questioned, putting the cover back on the stainless steel pot and turning to face me.

That definitely reminded me of the conversation. I shrugged, leaning back against the island. "Fine."

"Meet anyone in the neighborhood?"

"Yeah, some guy. Actually, two guys."

A mischievous smile spread across my mother's face. "Oh really?"

"Mom, it's nothing huge, okay?" I sighed. "One of them was kind of cocky, and the other never even talks."

My mom's face fell. "Well...I'm sure there are much better people in town. You'll see."

"Oh, I'm hanging out with one of them later tonight." I told her.

The look she gave me almost made me laugh. She quickly recomposed herself before she sighed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the food on the stove.

"Alright," she finally said. "Just be back before ten, I guess."

I left the kitchen and went up to my room to get a little bit of research done before dinner. I switched on my fairy lights and went over to my bed, pulling my laptop onto my thighs. I propped my pillows up against the headboard and leaned back against them. I opened my laptop and went to google and searched for Westfield Drive in my town. A bunch of different newspaper articles came up. I clicked on the first one and the headline really grabbed my attention.

Entire Family Dead at 30 Westfield Drive House. Must've been about the Hemmings House. The article basically talked about exactly what Michael had already told me. I moved onto the next article that said Boy Killed in Motorcycle Accident. That definitely wasn't about the Hemmings House.

A boy was killed in a motorcycle accident on Westfield Drive on September 23, 2013. His family asked for his identity to be closed to the public, but it was released that he was only eighteen. No one saw the accident or knows what caused it. The boy was found five feet away from his bike, which had skidded down the road.

Basically all I was learning was that a lot of deaths occurred on this street, and that my parents didn't do hardly enough research.

"Bridgette, dinner!" my mom called from downstairs.

I'd have to ask Michael about that later. I closed my laptop and headed downstairs to eat. It was 7:03 according to the clock on the stove. After dinner I'd have to go meet up with Michael. I sat down at the table across from my brother and folded my arms on the table.

"So your mother tells me you're meeting up with a boy later?" my dad inquired.

"A boy?" my brother, Jeremy scoffed. "What boy is meeting up with you?"

I shrugged. "His name is Michael. I met him after mom and dad kicked me out of the house."

"There's gotta be something wrong with this kid if he's hanging out with you," my brother laughed. "C'mon, is he a drug dealer? Rapist? Serial killer?"

"Jeremiah!" my mom scolded.

Jeremy just shrugged and picked up his fork. "Just trying to keep her safe."