Keeper of the Lost Child (A KotLC Fan Fiction)

TWELVE

   Jamie knocked, and waited. Just when she was about to knock again, the door opened, and Mr. Forkle looked out.
   "Miss Foster! How lovely to see you! Come in." He stepped aside, and she walked in.
   And stopped.
If she had been a cartoon character, her jaw would have fallen to the floor.
   His house was magnificent.
   They stood in the entryway. It wasn't huge, but big enough to fit a crowd of people. Two hanging cupboards lined the walls. The wallpaper was shiny, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The prisms of jewels shimmered, sending rainbows all over them.
   Mr. Forkle led her into the foyer, and gestured for her to sit down on one of the fancy couches. His house seemed bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. It was definitely bigger that her own house. Decorative china hung from the walls, and she spotted paintings she felt like she'd seen before. Everything was hard not to stare at. She wondered if the cathedral roof above her head was just a trick of light and mirrors. Judging by the outside of the house, a more plausible explanation for the interior's size, was quite plainly, magic.
   "Are you an artist?" he asked, pointing to the multiple sketch books under her arm.
   She shook her head and smiled. "Not really, though I love to draw."
   He nodded his understanding, and smiled too. "May I have a look?"
   "Sure." She pulled a book from under her arm. After she made sure it was the right book, she handed it to him.
   He slowly turned each page, examining every drawing.
   "Your technique is like just like..." he cut himself off.
"Just like what?" she prompted lightly, and hoped she wasn't poking her nose into any sensitive information.
"Just like an old friend of mine's." He seemed lost in thought.
"Okay..."
He continued looking at the pictures, until he got to her master piece. The city. Except now, it was nearly finished. The court house was complete. She had spent hours imagining how the light fell on it, so that she could depict its little sparkles. The towers and buildings were mostly done, and only the bottom right corner was lacking detail. The only thing that was missing, was people. The shimmering streets were empty, and despite the fact that the city had many inhabitants, she felt like it should stay without people.
As that was the last page, Mr. Forkle stopped flipping, and just stared at the city.
Jamie felt her face warm. Did he think it was silly of her to draw an imaginary city? Was he holding back giggles?
Finally he looked up at her, eyes wide, and tingle of goosebumps went down her spine. The room felt colder. It felt like he was looking into her brain.
"Miss Foster, do you know anything about the former owners of your house?" he asked out of the blue. She wasn't sure how to respond. The question surprised her.
"I heard that they moved out because something happened to their daughter, but I don't know much else. I know that no one has lived in the house for over thirty years. And that's it." She shrugged.
   "Miss Foster, would you be okay if I told you a story?" He seemed a little timid to approach the subject. Was it something personal? Did something serious happen? Had he been good friends with the previous owners?
   "Sure. Why not?" The tension in his expression stated plainly, that it wasn't a 'why not?' story.
   "There were two girls, who lived next door. Sisters. The younger one was popular, and her grades in school were far below average. And she was a terror to her older sister.
   "Their parents were fine people, both very kind. It's one of the reasons I moved here."
   He gave the thought a small chuckle, that made her wonder just how old he was. His eyes glanced across the fancy foyer. How much had those eyes seen?
   "The older sister, on the other hand, was quiet. She was well behaved, extremely unpopular, very intelligent, and quite pretty. Everyone, was jealous of her, and no one showed her respect because of this jealousy.
   "She was an outcast, even in her own family. I watched her grow up. I watched her take her first steps. I listened to her first words. And the most heartbreaking thing of all, I watched her try to make friends. Friends that would then smash her down, and leave her in pieces.
   "Then something happened, one day when she was five. I had been spending the day out in the sun of my yard, and watching the elder sister out of the corner of my eye. After quite some time, I had decided to go inside. I recall it was to retrieve a glass of lemonade, but that is irrelevant now. She had been reading a dictionary, and I figured she would be fine with out any supervision. Just as I entered the kitchen, I heard yelling outside. I rushed out to see another girl from another house nearby, yelling that the older sister had tripped and fallen. I ran to her, and saw her laying unconscious on the porch. Immediately, I found a phone, and called 9-1-1. They were there in an instant. I stayed with her the whole time. I watched over her. Even when I had to leave the room, I stayed by the door. Because I realized that this girl deserved a friend, even if it was in the form of an old man. Someone who would watch over her, and stay with her forever. Someone who would be there like a cushion for every fall. And even as she got older. When she did eventually find friends, and people who were more than friends, I was still there. I still stayed. I still stood there for that moment when she came crashing down. Like a cushion for every fall.
   "I was always there for Sophie."

1013 Words!

I just wanna say that I particularly loved this chapter. It felt good to start some gears turning inside the reader's brain. If you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it, be sure to comment what you think, and vote!
Sorry for the late update. I don't have a formal updating schedule, but this was really late.
I'll try to be better.
—Wawawa