Ghost Girl II

The Waynes

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"We pull up and stop in front of the grand wooden doors. 'Welcome to Wayne Manor,'  Alfred says."

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I step out of the car and stare in awe at the mansion. Damian walks to the door, hands stuffed in his pockets acting like his house isn't an actual palace. It resembles what I imagine the manor from something like "Downton Abbey" looks like. Large windows illuminate the grand house letting me see all the intricate details in the architecture of the light tan colored stone exterior. The main part of the house in three or more stories, but two ends extend off the main part that are both only two stories.

Damian clears his throat from where he stands at the door. Pulling my eyes away, I walk up next to him. He opens one of the grand wooden doors and walks into the house. I follow behind him, but immediately stop as I look around the entrance. The walls are a dark wood panelling that make the room seem so dark. The wooden flooring is covered with an ornate scarlet rug and a large glass chandelier that looks more expensive than my childhood apartment hangs from above. A large mirror with a gold frame hangs over a dust free hallway table.

"Follow me," Damian says. His voice pulls me from my wonder, but even as we walk I still can't help but glance over everything we pass. He leads me into an old kitchen with white tile on the lower half of the wall and green wallpaper on the top half. An old stove is just left of the door. I run my hand over the smooth metal before looking at the rest of my surroundings. 

A wooden table sits right in the middle of the room drawing almost all the attention. Its clear of any food or cooking tools. A sitting table is off to the left with a decorative fruit bowl placed in the middle. Next I peer at the windows which are composed of tiny square panes of glass. A yellow, blue, and red crest sits in the upper center.

"You really like primary colors here, huh," I comment. Damian smirks at me and moves to a cabinet, opening it by the handle. He rummages through for something and eventually appears with a mixing bowl. "I think I've had enough cooking for the day."

"Well then sit back and relax Williams," Damian says, "because I'll be cooking tonight." A scoff escapes my throat. I reach my hand up to my mouth, but its already happened. "Don't doubt my cooking abilities."

"Oh I'm sorry Gordon Ramsey," I apologize sarcastically. "I'll just let you do your thing." I pull one of the chairs from the table and set it at the wooden table in the middle of the room. Taking a seat, I pull out my phone and decide to check my emails.

I scroll through and only see a few subscription emails and one or two about school. As I scroll though, I remember the messages I had gotten a week ago. I go to the messages again and see if they've said anything else. I'm filled with mixed emotions at the sight of our previous messages. I'm relieved that they haven't responded, but I'm worried as well. Why would they cease all contact after achieving contact? It makes zero sense. I place my phone down and look up at Damian.

"So what are you making?" I ask in an attempt to distract myself. 

Damian doesn't look up from the mixture he is currently whisking together. "Pancakes," he responds as he sets the whisk down. My mouth forms a large O shape.