The Giggler Learns to Dance - Shortlisted - Open Novella Contest 2020

Chapter Ten - In the End, We All Go Home

Chapter Ten

In the End, We All Go Home

Like so many times during this night, the trio walked through the night, not entirely sure where their feet were leading them. Still, they walked, allowing the truth to settle upon their shoulders. The Giggler, their friend, was the supposed dead brother of the Mance. This brought with it more questions than answers.

Alice only guessed where the Giggler was heading when she saw the familiar road signs of her street. She was still a new enough addition to Ryndale that she hadn't quite gotten used to the convoluted way the town was laid out. 

"Home?" She asked the Giggler. The Giggler nodded stiffly, flinching in response to the word.

"He better not live in a crypt," Topher whispered under his breath to Alice, his tone entirely serious. Alice only smiled, pointing out her own house as they passed. 

"I live there," Alice, said, stopping for a moment to look at the driveway leading to the small house she would eventually call home. Her stomach sank. "My father's car isn't there. He never came home from work." 

Not for the first time tonight Alice acknowledged that maybe it was a blessing after all. If he was stuck at the hospital, he was safe and out of the clutches of the Mance. The Giggler gave her shoulder a swift and gentle squeeze before she dragged her feet forward and walked down the poorly lit road where this night had begun. 

The Giggler's house, it transpired, only appeared to be abandoned on the outside. The overgrown lawn had given way to a field of winter wildflowers that overtook the concrete path to the front door. Gorse flowers, hawkbit, and forget-me-nots grew tall and unruly. The Giggler lead the way, his shoulders hunching more with every step towards the front door. Brown paint was peeling from the door and a bat-shaped knocker was rusted and hanging loose. The Giggler opened the door, not having bothered to lock it and led the way inside.  

Inside, the house was laid out quite similarly to Alice's. Though the furnishings were dated, the hallway was pristine. 

Topher visibly relaxed at the sight of the polished oak wood floors and sweeping staircase. To Alice, the walls seemed unnaturally bare, the great expanse of flowery wallpaper not punctuated by a single photograph. Directly ahead, Alice spied a kitchen. The Giggler moved toward the kitchen, gesturing to the cupboards, opening a few to show fresh food. Topher leaped forward, gathering ingredients for a sandwich, the Giggler helping him to reach the higher items, smiling slightly all the while. 

"Want one?" He asked Alice, turning to see her standing in the doorway, dazed at the complete normality of sandwiches in the kitchen with friends. Alice shook her head. There was nothing normal about this. She should be hungry. Instead, all she felt was an empty kind of numbness at the night's events. She asked the Giggler where the bathroom was. 

"Upstairs....left," He gurgled, pointing at the ceiling, and Alice nodded, grateful for the opportunity to freshen up. 

The landing of the first floor was carpeted in an ugly green and brown paisley print. Like everything else in the house, it was fluffy and fresh looking. The only aspect that Alice considered out-of-place was a small grey cat that lay curled at the end of the hall, before a closed door. The cat opened its yellow eyes lazily at the sound of Alice approaching the bathroom but did nothing more than eye her suspiciously, seeming sleepy.

Inside the bathroom, Alice was cheerfully surprised to see that the entire bathroom furniture set was a faded pink, the kind of which she had seen in movies from the eighties. Alice looked at her self in the mirror, splashing icy water on her face. Her red cropped hair was curling, matted, and generally chaotic. Her piercings were twisted and her necklace was turned the wrong way around. Overall, she didn't look too shabby, all things considered.