Me x You

Chapter 3

Your Point of View

       Beds creaked as people shifted for comfort. Some in the room were laid on their bed, staring up at the ceiling. Others had their eyes closed, still peacefully asleep. One of them being Noah: the perfect one. You seriously doubted that he was actually asleep. After all, he was the early bird of the house. The clock beside you said 7:30. By this time, you would usually be waking up to get ready to go, but alas, it was the weekend. That's why no one else wanted to get up. They were all enjoying the silence that stemmed from peace, even the youngest ones.
       Your foster siblings were a very eclectic group. With a spectrum of colors placed upon their heads to even the shape of their noses. The youngest one, Schroeder, sat up. He was quite small, even for a second grader. His booming and exotic personality made up for that, though. Except, this morning he looked extra groggy, and seeing as no one else was up for playing a few games, he laid back down. Not before he stared straight at you with those piercing blue eyes of his, though. That stare always gave you the chills. Part of it might be that his eyes were brought out more from the paleness of his face and hair, or it might be the way he stares at you. It could also be the fact that whenever he looks at people like that, he's never smiling, which is abnormal. Who knows? It could be a mixture of all of those things.
       You sigh as you decide to sit up as well. You can never go back to sleep when there are at least another three conscious presences around you. You slide off of your bed and look underneath it to grab a pair of sandals. You started to walk away, but not before you were quickly joined by Schroeder. The pair of you quietly walked out.
Once the two of you got out of the house, Schroeder beamed up at you, and spoke in his excited voice, "Good morning!"
       You looked down at his face that wasn't as frightening with a smile and you gave a small one back. You walked a little ways, but eventually ended up at a playground. This is where you usually came early on Saturday mornings, and it was perfect for Schroeder to occupy himself today. He joyfully ran towards the swings, laughing all the way.
       It was a nice day outside. A good summer morning before it got hot. There was no one around because it was so early, and that's why this place practically oozed perfection. You became lost in your thoughts as you watched Schroeder; his straight hair that usually barely went above his eyes now flying through the air.
       The last week was a relatively good first week of school. No one particularly bothered you, and you managed to get A's on the little amount of assignments you were given. Even the kid that moved in down the street didn't bother you. Now, you didn't particularly like being alone, but all of the people around you were people you couldn't stand. All of the extroverted people. Of course, you had a fair few extroverts in the foster home, but you grew to love them over a VERY long period of time. Longer than the course of highschool. You closed your eyes for a little bit, listening only to the sound of Schroeder's laughter.
       After a while, the laughter stopped. You opened your eyes to make sure Schroeder was okay, and sure enough, he was. He had just stopped making so much noise. You closed your eyes again. Then, your youngest foster brother started talking.
       "Hello!" he said as jubilantly as ever. He couldn't have been talking to you. Why would he be saying hello after being here for about 15 minutes. You opened your eyes to see who he was talking to, and you saw the quiet kid from your school. The one with the strange glasses and the dark pink hair. He seemed to be enjoying his morning, and the poor soul had just started to get accosted by Schroeder.
       You allowed yourself a large yawn before you got up to drag Schroeder away. As you walked closer, you noticed your foster brother happily chatting away while the other boy stared stone faced back.       Before you got close enough to hear what was being said, though, Schroeder suddenly stopped talking in the middle of his sentence. The two boys stared quizzically at each other for a moment, then Schroeder's face grew frightened and the other boy looked a little surprised. Unexpectedly, they both turned to look at you at the same time, which was a little creepy. Schroeder started crying and yelling your name as he ran towards you. The other boy stared at you long and hard with very cold eyes, his look of shock gone.
You suddenly became very angry. You were about to yell at this mysterious boy, but Schroeder quickly stopped you.
       "Don't," he said through heavy sobs, "He didn't do anything."
       You looked down at your foster brother to wipe away a few tears, as well as whisper words of comfort. You looked back up to see that boy, but he had vanished. Probably started running because he knew what was good for him. You softly grabbed Schroeder's hand and started walking back to your house. By the time you got back, his tears had dried.

                                                                        .                       .                        .

       The moment you walked through that door, you were grateful for the little bit of peace you had. Everyone was screaming, fighting, laughing, and running around. Board games were trampled on, books fell to the floor, and even Noah was a part of it, though he was trying to solve the problems. Schroeder giggled as he ran into the mess. Then, something suddenly changed. Someone spoke out and said, "What's that smell?" Everyone stopped and took a large sniff like a pack of bloodhounds. Everyone looked at each other, then one of the twins, Griffin, said as cautiously as he could, "cookies."
       Everyone, including you, made a mad dash towards the kitchen. Some people fell, or got injured, but no one cared. Suddenly, you were cut off from the kitchen as Ms. Host, your foster parent, blocked everyone.
       "These are for the new neighbors," she started without hesitation, "Not for you."
Everyone let out a collective sigh as the news hit them. We were making the cookies, delivering them, but not eating them.
       Quickly, you realized who these cookies were for, and somehow, Schroeder seemed to find out as well because he started tearing up again. You went back and patted his head, as he tried to keep the drops falling from his eyes.
       All eight people in the house made the short journey to the other residence. We all quickly found out, though, that this new family was from more than out of town. They could hardly speak a lick of English, and even though they tried, it turned out kind of pathetic. They seemed like nice enough people, though. They looked really grateful for the cookies. Then, the woman from the pair called up the stairs, saying what you could only guess was their son's name. He came down, but didn't look very happy about it. Sure enough, it was the boy from earlier this morning. He skimmed the people outside of his door, locking eyes with you, then looking down at Schroeder. His eyes narrowed and his mouth curved down from his neutral gaze. He squatted down in order to reach his height, then, he just reached out and patted Schroeder's head. The boy stood up, looked at the cookies in his mother's hand and said, "Thanks," He then shut the door.
       There was something odd about the way he spoke. Almost like he wasn't speaking at all, but you must have been imagining that. But, he didn't have an accent, unlike his parents. This kid was definitely strange.
       As they walked back to their house, Schroeder was about five paces ahead of the group, and he locked himself in the bathroom as soon as he got back. You know he said that the boy did nothing, but he obviously had. You were a little ticked off about this because no one messes with your family.