"Oh John, come on now! Stop pulling!" Mrs. Watson exclaimed, pulling along on her son's arm in some urgency as they made their way down the hallway.
"I don't wanna, I don't wanna go!" John whined, stopping in his tracks and refusing to be totted along any longer. He was putting his foot down; he simply refused to go to school. It was a terrifying place, with so many people who he didn't recognize, how could his mother possibly lead him into such a horrible place? How could she take him here, and still claim to love him?
"John this is a step in everyone's life, a big boy step!" Mrs. Watson defended, pausing in the hallway to crouch down and give her son a quick kiss on the forehead. "It's just the first day, surely you'll come to like it afterwards! There are so many friends you can make!"
"I wanna stay home." John defended. "I don't wanna make friends."
"Come on then, come and look." Mrs. Watson insisted, pulling her now more compliment son into the preschool room. There were about ten other children milling about, with some parents lingering and saying their final goodbyes. The room was decorated in obnoxious colors, with the alphabet taped to the wall and bins filled with toys shoved into the corners. John clutched at his mother's hand, and yet he couldn't deny that he was intrigued. It looked fun here...almost.
"Look at that, John, do you see the froggy?" Mrs. Watson said excitedly, pointing to a painted frog that was depicted in some sort of animal scene on the far wall. John smiled; frogs had always been his favorite animal. Perhaps this place wasn't as bad as he thought. One of the other boys tottered over, looking at John as if he was happy to see another face within the crowd. He walked confidently, yet his brown hair was flopping over his face in a very awkward angle. John thought the kid looked rather funny, yet he wouldn't say anything yet. Maybe this boy would be one of those friends his mother keeps mentioning.
"Hello young man." Mrs. Watson said enthusiastically. "What's your name?" The boy hesitated for a moment, looking at John with just the faintest spark of recognition in his eyes.
"Victor." He said finally. "You want to be friends?"
"Yes." John agreed with a nod. "We can be best friends, if you want."
"Alright." Victor nodded with a smile. "We can be best friends." John smiled, and Victor smiled back. Perhaps this wasn't as bad as he thought. Perhaps everything was going exactly as planned.
A/N: Sorry for the brief chapter, but consider it an epilogue of sorts. And yes, before anyone asks, I do think that I will write a sequel. I really didn't know if it would be possible and then like last week I was just sitting in the car and the idea hit me like a train, so now I think it would be positively delightful. It'll be a while though, if it gets written at all, so just remember that patience is a virtue. Thank you for reading, thank you for your active comments (you know who you are!) and for your enthusiasm. This was one of the first stories in a long while that I felt had an actual following, and it's nice to get that added motivation and excitement every Wednesday and Sunday. This is also one of the first stories I ever considered self publishing, and so I've been entering it into a lot of contests and have been trying to edit it. I've even got a book trailer coming! I'll post that when it's up! So yes, this story has come and gone, and I loved it and I hope you loved it to. Up next is something equally maddening, a story of a family curse being passed down through the generations and ending up in the blood of poor Sherlock. Thanks for reading, and I'll see everyone on Wednesday!
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The Mad House
फैनफिक्शनThe house sat alone, and yet it was never empty. Memories were stored inside of it like ghosts, and its floors were walked by the same pairs of feet for hundreds of years. John never wanted anything to do with the house, until finally it called him...
