At Aunt Amy's

Chapter 2

To put it simply, I'd be living like Harry Potter for the next who-knows-how-long.

And by that, I don't mean that I get to go to Hogwarts and ride around in a broom. Think more along the lines of before books, when he lived with the Dursleys. In conclusion, I'm sleeping under the stairs. And Aunt Amy's only defense was, "We...kind of forgot to set up a room for you."

So they put me in a frickin' closet.

The only thing in the closet was a mattress on the floor, a small nightstand below a broken mirror, and a stack of the last two Harry Potter books. I haven't even read the first one. The only light poured in from a dusty window. On top of the "bed" was a throw blanket with cartoon characters all over it a flat pillow pet. And the worst thing about this room was that I had to duck to fit through the door.

I was going to add in a "Is this it?" or a "How come it's so small?" but I was advised not to give sass to relatives. So I just sat my ass on the bed, listening to it squeak like a mouse getting squashed under a boot.

"I mean, you only have to sleep in there," Brenda pointed out, standing outside the doorway. I heard a thump overhead, and dust came sprinkling down.

"And I'll be doing this all night!" Hazel called out, jumping harder so that dust rained down like snow. I covered my head and maneuvered out of the closet.

"If it makes you feel any better, my room's in the attic," she said.

"Oh sweety, just because you have to climb a stairway doesn't mean it's in the attic," Aunt Amy called. Hazel rolled her eyes.

"I was just tryin' to make her feel better," Hazel grumbled. The walls inside the house were just about the same shape of light pink. I peeked into the kitchen to see that they were the same shade as well. Even worse, the appliances and fridge were an in-your-face, girly hot pink.

"I like this place," Hazel sighed, sitting on the stairs. "It's very...bright."

"Why thank you, Haze," Aunt Amy chirped, her voice cracking like a 12-year-old boy. I cringed at the sound of it. I pulled off my jacket and hung it on the doorknob outside my room. Aunt Amy immediately took notice of my bare shoulders. She raised an eyebrow at me. I raised one back.

"Sorry, it's hot," I said. But she kept on staring. I rolled my eyes. It's my boobs, isn't it? I thought as I pulled my tank top up a little higher (though nothing was showing in the first place). That made her look a little less tense, at least. Just then, the pink door swung open and a man with slick-back dark hair entered. The man didn't see us at first. He walked right past us and set down a paper bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. It wasn't until Brenda loudly cleared her throat that his head snapped in our direction.

"Oh, you're here," he stated with a small smile that lingered when he started to unbag all his food. My sisters and I all exchanged a confused look. Aunt Amy took note, rolled her eyes, put her happy mask back on, and called, "Honey, you're nieces are here!"

"You got married?" Hazel asked.

"Yeah, I don't remember him from old family reunions," I added.

"Shut up, that's rude," Brenda hissed, not making eye contact.

"Says the one saying shut-"

"Well, this is your Uncle Eric!" Aunt Amy announced. "Eric, you remember Brenda, Hazel and..."

"Avery," I reminded.

"Yes, her."

"I don't think we got the chance to meet," He said (sort of like we were spiritually shaking hands or something).