The dinner table was relatively quiet aside from the clinking of silver-wear and my father’s occasional coughing spells.
The massive dinning room was barren of any furniture or accessories aside from the table and chairs we sat in. The room had to of been eleven feet high. The blank walls were painted in a soft ivory color that made the room feel even more expansive than it already was.
I scarfed down a measly helping of my mom’s vegetarian lasagna and washed it down with a glass of water from the tap (we had yet to install a purification system.)
My father’s deep brown eyes widened as he watched me chug my water from across the table. “Are you going to the chair? Slow down,” he joked.
“Please, dad. If I were going to have my last meal on earth it would most definitely not be vegetable lasagna," I fired back.
My mother shifted in her seat.
“No offense mom. Your lasagna is great,” I added, flashing a small reassuring smile in her direction. She shrugged it off and stuffed another forkful into her mouth.
“What would it be then?” My father asked, "Your last meal?"
“Chicken fingers, brownies, and Cookies and Cream ice cream," I answered without hesitation.
He lowered his glass and laughed. “It seems like you’ve though a lot about his."
“I have. Can I be excused?”
“Waverly Darlington what has got you in such a rush?” My mother said, smoothing the napkin on her lap.
Oh nothing, its just that the moon has risen so I can finally finish reading the magic book that I found, a book that is of particular interest to the handsome boy that intruded my bedroom in the middle of the night last night.
“No rush,” I lied, sinking back in to my chair.
I sipped on my room-temperature glass of water out of boredom as my parent’s discussed home improvement projects.
“Why did you guys even pick this house?” I interrupted.
My mother was eager to answer, “Because it has character and we can put our own stamp on it with the renovations.”
“Also, we can increase the property value on this home a ton, especially since we don’t have to hire a contractor and I can do most of the updates myself," My father said and sat up in his chair, "We have to compensate for the ridiculous cost of college education these days somehow.”
I felt a rant coming on. I nodded understandingly, hoping that would deter him from expanding any further.
Their reasoning made plenty of sense from a logical standpoint, but I liked the house for other reasons. It gave me the inexplicable feeling that something special was happening within its paper-thin walls and underneath it's creaky floor boards.
My father loved the facts and figures when it came to properties. If we had the money for it, I’m sure he would love to flip houses, but for now, he stuck with being an independent contractor. My mother on the other hand, was a high school math teacher. She loved working with numbers and her job, but I could not imagine how hard it was for work with kids everyday when one of her own had passed. I was sure many of them reminded her of Leo, of what he would have been like.
“Do you know who lived in this house before us?” I asked next.
“The home was vacant for several years, but I know it was owned by a middle aged couple before that,” my father answered.
YOU ARE READING
Neverland
Fanfiction"There could not have been a lovelier sight; but there was none to see it except a little boy who was staring in at the window. He had ecstasies innumerable that other children can never know; but he was looking through the window at the one joy fro...
