If walls could talk

Concrete never meant so much

At this point, I'm terrified. There is always the times in life when the little things like the so called monster under your bed attacks and scares you, but this scares me to death. How can paper randomly print out of a printer when no one was using my laptop. No one was on the computer in the office. Everyone was asleep. Even Asia, who stays up late at night talking on the phone to her best friends, was asleep. Still, I dont know whether to mention anything to my parents. They are already over-protective enough. It took 11 months of nagging for them to finally let me have a phone with internet on it. I didn't want to have my laptop taken away for problems that I didn't even casue. They need to know though. I'm being stalked, horrased. I need to tell them, but not right now...

The basement was going to be re-done so it would look half decent. Our plans were to get some carpet in the game room, and a pool table, air hockey table, and foosball table all in one in, there as well. Honestly I'd move into the basement if it were my choice. I feel like Harry Potter living under the steps, except I'm practically in a closet.

Dad gave us all jobs that Saturday. Mom's was to clean up the "bathroom", Asia's was to sweep out the dead spiders and dust, mine was to take nails out of the walls, and Dad was our "superviser" who actually just told us that we were doing it all wrong and then gave us a 10 minute lecture on how to do it right.

My job was quite simple. Put the drill in the wall, press the button that unscrews the nails, and throw them into an orange Home Depot bucket. To any normal human being this doesn't sound fun. Well it didnt sound fun to me at first either. But what made it exciting is what i discovered while doing it.

There is this little spot in the corner of the room where it had about 26 nails all in a row. As I began to unscrew each one, I noticed writing underneath it.

128 North Holt Street

What did this address mean? It wasn't mine. Why is it written on the basement wall. Just put it on paper like a normal person would.

"Mom, Dad. Come look at this?"

"What's wrong Court?" Dad asked me while he wiped his hands on his towel.

"Look at this writing." I asnwered.

"128 North Holt Street. OK? What's the problem here Court?"

"Why is this address written on a wall? A normal person would have written it down on a piece of paper." I said, motioning to the wall.

"Maybe that was the their drug dealer." Asia smirked.

"Asia!" Mom scowled.

"Well, why else would you write down an address on the corner of a wall." Asis threw back.

"Asia, you don't know when to shut up." Mom said as she glared at her.

"Don't worry about it" Dad said, and eveybody went back to their work.

Later that evening at dinner, I squirmed around in my seat.

"What's wrong Court?" Dad asked.

"Uhh nothing just had a little to much soda I guess. Can I be excused?" I asked.

"I guess." Father replied.

"I'm going for a bike ride." I announced as I began to walk out the door.

"What about the dishes?" Mom asked, as I opened the door.

"Asisa can do them, and I'll do them tomorrow and Monday." I suggested.

"Hah! You actually think I'm going to do your chores? You're funny Court. I never knew you had a sense of humor." Asia responded sarcastically.

"Neither did I." I replied and walked out the door.

There was a reason I wanted to get out of the house. No, even though Asia makes me want to strangle her, she wasn't the reason I wanted to leave. I had bigger plans. And those plans lie on 128 North Holt Street.