The house no one Knows about

ELEVEN

It's been two days since I've gone missing. I wonder how my parents are reacting to this fact. There's a certain behaviour and attitude that a parent assumes when their child goes missing; it would take my parents seven years to assume that behaviour. Bambi is still asleep. I wanted to ask her about the pictures last night and the things I would refer to as outlandish that I've noticed about her but we were having a good day and I wanted everything to stay normal and happy in case it would be our last.

I tiptoe up the stairs calmly, the door to her room is wide open and so is her window. She lay in bed fast asleep but still shivering. Outside the red autumn leaves fall elegantly, like a ballerina landing a pirouette.

'What are you doing here?'

At first I didn't recognise the voice. It sounded too deep, too deep to belong to Bambi but even after I noticed it, I ignored it. Above my head is a nineteenth century, medieval-looking trapdoor on the ceiling. There is a heavy padlock guarding it along with a series of other complicated locks. A silver key hung in the middle of a silver chain which was hooked around her neck. She isn't asleep, her eyes are wide open and she is still shivering but only a little.

'I wanted to know what T.A.A.B.W.I.A.W.A.D.A.F.458.I means' I say

'The anonymous attractive boy who is always watching and drives a Ferrari 458 Italia'

'Why do you call me that?'

'It's what you are'

She rolled out of her bed and locked the windows.

'I normally don't let people up here' she whispers

'I'm not people'

You aren't though are you?'

* * *

I should have freaked out when I saw him but I was blown away by his "just woke up" look and wondered how I got so lucky. I place my hand on the window, cold stimulating shocks run up and down my arm.

I haven't had serious cold shivers in a long while but it doesn't mean I'm getting better; there is no cure for Pyroflu. When I get really bad cold shivers, Izzy usually takes care of it. He brings a doctor over here just for me, all I would need to do is speed dial him. Izzy and I used to go out, I loved him because he cared about me so much but when he told me that loved me, he couldn't promise me and I can't trust anyone who won't promise anything to me. He's still there whenever I need him; he got me the red couch. He didn't know I was getting for guests who might lodge here for a while (T.A.A.B.W.I.A.W.A.D.A.F.458.I). I don't find it necessary to tell Izzy about him because I know that Izzy would get jealous. Trust me, I wouldn't know why but he would always have some sensible reason that compels me to apologise even when he's wrong and I'm right. He called me last night and told me that he wants to see me.

'Bambi, I'll promise you anything, please just let me see you'

'It's not about that Iz'

'Then why won't you let me see you'

'I need you to forget that I exist'

He told me he couldn't do that and he is coming to see me today. I didn't believe him until I look out of the window and watch his Harley roll into view. Then I run down the stairs. For the many months that I haven't seen Izzy, I vowed to distance myself from him. Once my feet land on the bottom step I realise what is missing.

T.A.A.B.W.I.A.W.A.D.A.F.48.I

Where is he? What was the last thing he said before he left my room?

'I'm going to take a walk'

And because I was physically incapable of thinking while staring at his face; I nodded. I open the door and Izzy walks right in without an invite due to his familiarity with this house and me. He stayed the same; Ray bans, Dior Homme, graphic tee-shirt.