Ce n'est pas une pipe: A TFIOS fan fiction

Chapter 3: A House Filled With Stuffed Squirells

My feet automatically moved, taking me to nowhere in particular. It seemed like my feet took over my body a lot.

Soon, they stopped. I was at 659 Easton Avenue.

I had no idea why, but my gut was telling me to knock. My brain was telling me otherwise. I felt like there was a devil on my right shoulder and an angel on my left, each fighting over what to do.

Chances are, if I knocked, no one would answer, or whoever did answer would tell me to get away.

I didn't want to make myself look like a bigger loser than I already was. but at the same time, I already was a loser. Nobody would think anything of it if a girl walked up and asked for a friend, then realized it was the wrong house.

I know, lying is bad, but I needed a distraction from my day. I decided to listen to the devil on my right shoulder.

I walked up to the wooden door of the house. There was a large brass knocker on the door. Maybe this was a bad idea. A scary old lady obsessed with collecting stuffed squirrels probably lived here. Maybe she would invite me in to see her collection.

No. The angel was trying to talk me out of it. I was going to go home as a bigger loser if I didn't't gather enough courage to knock on the door. I was pathetic.

I slowly walked up to the door. My hand fumbled up to the brass knocker. I lifted the cold metal up , and dropped it hard against the door. The effect was an extremely loud knock.

I stood, waiting. It seemed like hours had gone by. I should go, the resident was probably not home at five on a Sunday. Who would be? The person who lives here probably is out stuffing another squirrel.

Ok. Now I was just being ridiculous. If I really believed that an old lady with a squirrel collection lived here, I didn't belong knocking on this door. I belonged in a mental hospital.

I continued waiting, but no one arrived. Eventually I left. Just as I turned around to go, the door opened.

I turned around to see who was behind the door.

Behind the door was an woman who looked to be in her early thirties. Amazingly, she answered. I was not expecting it. Maybe she was hard of hearing and did not hear my knock. Although that brass knocker sure did make a very loud sound.

I stared at the woman for who knows how long. She probably thought I was a weirdo. Who could blame her? I definitely did not look like a cool kid, and I wasn't one.

Cool kids have friends. And that isn't even close to where the differences end. The thing that I have most in common with any cool kid would be that we go to school and even that might not even count.

The woman looked at me as if she was expecting me to say something. I really did not feel like talking, so didn't. Instead, I stood there silently like a loser.

The women made a strange sound with her throat. She was expecting me to say something.

"Hello!" I stuttered. I was one pathetic teenager.

"Hello." The woman replied. Her voice sounded like dead leaves blowing in the wind.

"Um... I was wondering if... you... had a pen I could borrow." I lied.

"Why are you asking?" the woman suddenly sounded curious.

I stood there, staring at her. I cannot believe that my idea for a lie was to ask for a pen. How pathetic.

"I need one." I replied. Another lie.

"Hold on." she said. The woman was actually going to get me a pen. How strange.

I stood there, uncomfortably waiting for the woman to come back. I could bolt right then and there, I thought, but somehow it seemed wrong. This nice lady who didn't even know me was going out of her way to help me. I couldn't leave her standing, waiting to give me a pen that I don't need. That was just seriously messed up.

Soon, the lady came back with a permanent marker.

"I could not find a pen. Will this work?" she asked. I nodded.

"Great!" she said. This was so strange, and wrong. I should not be taking this woman's pen. I should not be here. I should be at home with grandma and grandpa. I should be reading, or doing homework, but I am not.

Too late now.

The woman placed the marker in my hand. My fingers closed around the thin stem of it.

"Thank you." I said, not knowing what else to say.

She just stared at me.

"Are you going to use it?" she asked.

"Umm, can I bring it back? I'll have it back to you tomorrow afternoon." I said.

"OK." she said.

I was lying, and she knew it too. I was never going to bring the pen back, but she let me take it anyway.

I turned around. My feet led my body back where I came from. I walked, not bothering to look back. She was probably back inside by now. Thinking about my strange antics.

Actually, she probably wouldn't waste a second thinking about me. Maybe she was playing dress up with her squirrels.

I continued walking back in the direction of the park. That was my destination, I decided. I was going back to the park.

I walked for another ten feet, then looked back. I could not help it.

Instead of seeing the wooden door that I expected, I saw the woman. She was standing there, staring off in the distance. She was looking at nothing in particular, which scared me. She was thinking.

Suddenly, her eyes focused on me. Our eyes met for only a second, but it was enough. Her face took on a look of sadness.

I half expected her to run after me, but she just stood there looking at me with a sad expression on her face. I wondered why. Maybe she was sad to lose her pen. I don't know.

She was starting to make me uneasy. I turned around, and started speed walking to the park. Towards my destination.