Project

3.0: I'm Will; the Main Character

As they pulled up the dazzling driveway, they looked upon the more modern and homely of houses, surrounded in an area of cleanliness and contentment. The neighbourhood Will lived in was surely the oddball of many in the city, not a single car laid abandoned on the road, and the road itself was as smooth as finely sanded wood. Though the storm had already hit this area of the city, weighing the atmosphere down on them, it took away little from its beauty, and left small flowing rivers running down the side of the road into the darkness that was the rest of the city.

The neighbourhood seemed so peaceful, so calm, that both Questioner and Writer felt out of place. The bins were neatly placed outside, still wondering why the collectors were so late, and holding tightly onto their lids. The grass was a great green colour, and was unfortunately being flattened by the immense rain that fell. The mist tried its best to make the neighbourhood seem desolate, creepy, abandoned, but to no avail. It could only emphasise the harsh weather that had unluckily came across such a nice neighbourhood.

The weather indeed did that, and fell harder onto the roof of the car, and the muffled slams of the rain landing around both of them grew louder and louder. The sky was a slightly brighter shade of grey, but was growing darker by the second, shrouding the town in its own darkness, and smothering it away from the rest of the world. Soon enough, the first strike of lightning flashed in the distance, lurking towards them and threatening them to be quick. The wind howled through the rain and trees, bending some unfortunate ones past their breaking points. Wind chimes on the houses went wild with the wind, and smashed against each other, creating a dark tone of music.

Yet Questioner cared for none of that, and was only making sure that Writer wouldn't collapse in the freezing climate. Writer nodded confidently at him, only chattering slightly. Though Questioner would wish for him to stay indoors, he knew that Writer had too much confidence to be stopped by 'some rain and clouds', and so begrudgingly opened the door.

As soon as the doors opened, they were both drenched and water flooded into their car. They quickly slammed the door shut, and toughly treaded over to the large home, fighting the strong winds. The house itself now looked haunting, and the curtains were drawn to block out the misery of the weather. The walls of the house stood tall, and showed no signs of falling against even this weather, determined to keep the owner safe. The lawn was well kept, and had small patches of grass flattened over, where items once stood -whether it had blown away or was placed inside beforehand, Questioner didn't know. The pathway leading up to the house had flooded, and the stone slabs sank slowly into the ground. They both fought their way up to the doorway, and took a breath under the porch.

Questioner now took a much clearer glance at the doorway, and realised just how massive it truly was. The oak-wood door stretched up to the very top of the porch roof, measuring to at least seven feet, Questioner assumed. The fogged window on the door was made with a variety of diamonds, which cut off at the door handle that was a glinting golden colour. The doormat was covered in a thick layer of dried mud and dirt, with tiny strands of grass seemingly growing from it.

Though the porch itself was keeping them dry, droplets fell from above them in gaps between the tiles. As Questioner looked up, he saw that the inside of the porch roof was covered in cobwebs and dust. The webs themselves, although now tangled and deformed, shone in the light of the doorway. The wind dragged the dust along the air, and into Questioner's face, making him sneeze profusely. He gave a deep sigh, clearing his lungs from any remains of dust. He then regained his stare on the door, and looked slightly left to it, seeing the doorbell that awaited the touch of his finger. He looked at Writer, "Ready?" He asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Writer replied. And so Questioner rung the bell.

While they waited, Questioner invoked some conversation, "To be fair, this guy's portfolio makes him seem more bark than bite, so I'm sure we'll be alright."