The House
Lead by their mother Courtney two boys enter the big front door.
A customary tradition all three persons have carried out for many years expanding, from holidays and birthdays alike.
A tradition that for a silent fact (unaware to their mother Courtney) the boys did not particularly enjoy as it was not in regards to there youthful age nor the inconvenience this causes their personal schedules. But as they both stare at the huge dirty white sign with the bright gold lettering the reasons being something out of a childhood fear of the unknown and the million hours of horror movies came, rushing back to them in the instant.
“Bo Commons- “The House”” “Where Silence is indeed Golden”
The name of the town highlighted plainly in the identity of the setting did not help the creepy metaphor of the ominous “The House.” A creepy name to give a nursing home for the elderly along with there trademarked slogan underneath with, that customary light black cursive. “Where Silence is indeed Golden”-it gave the idea of death all too real to those who are forced to inhabit their halls until their final strike on there life clock.
The building itself was (like there sign) matched up on color as it seemed as though that would be the proper thing to do. Painted all white matching the best winter snow you could think of with the noticeable black shutters out front. It stood like a manor out of colonial times except the fact of the few signs of the age near the far sides of the building-seeing a few cracks of paint and a few vines growing up its sides.
It was no secret of the presence this “house” really presents to two boys 10, and 13.
The horror movies they used to binge watch late at night behind there parents back really held up some real estate in their mind.
As they enter the extravagant lobby of the establishment to greet the receptionist Ms. Gloria and all her southern belle glory. That childhood fear was overtaken them just a bit (as, in a lot of scary movies) the monsters to be afraid of was not too far behind to the unsuspecting prey.
“Hi Ms. Gloria! How are You! Here to see Mom again”
“O ok Ms. Serek glad for yawl to come on back, I see you brought the beautiful Beau’s today”
The good Mother and the receptionist both looked back at the quite kids who felt the uncomfortable attention of the elder women. “Smile and wave” the older one whispered to his younger sibling.
Both kids followed each other-both smiling and waving.
“Oh, Bless their sweet hearts huh?”
“Oh, thank you!... I appreciate that, How’s Mom today?”
The best “go” to on Courtney Serek’s meet and greets with one Gloria Reenie. The southern belle’s infectious smile was wiped away quickly as she looked around at first before she signaled for Ms. Serek to come closer for a whisper conversation. It was all so secret agent-Ish but, I suppose she was going to Tell a worried Daughter some important stuff. Leaving the boys behind them in limbo staring around looking at random things (as a lot of kids do-awaiting their next instruction)
“So do you think they killed her out back in the woodshed? Or poison her? My bet is that they poisoned her.”
“What?”
“You herd me”
“You think they killed Grandma out back? Like some Chickey!?”
“Shhh”
The brotherly squabble was starting to become memorable. The older one had to muzzle the young feelings of his sibling brought on from his, own sarcastic monotoned comments he said to be comedic relief.
“I did not mean that Brutus I swear I did not. ha I was just trying to make things less weird being here”
“Well... Turd-Ball Do not talk about Grandma LIKE that. I do not like it”
“I know and I am sorry little bro forgive me.”
“Yeah.”
Both boys then looked around together as they always did since they started this “tradition” taking everything in for what it was. Looking at the long ascending stairs that went upwards then parted on two separate sides that seemed to create a circle of some kind that led into their second floor. Then from right Brutus looked at the filled-up dining room hall area where a minor sea of the elderly was hunched over in certain chairs at certain tables. Playing board games, and talking while in the way back a lot was doing arts and crafts which, piqued his interest due to his age as he was in the stage of being expressive.
For on his personal life track being only 10 years old Brutus Serek. Had been recently inflicted with the harshest reality of growing up. Something in the news has “recently” started to spotlight on the many consequences “that follow” throughout life. As he reminded himself of, the trauma as he straightened up his coat around his round frame.
“I hate being fat”
The kryptonite that has handicapped him for the 10 years since his very birth. The green rock that everyone seemed to harshly remind him everyday at school. A main reason why of the interest of the arts and crafts intrigues him.
Turner Serek who was the 13-year-old twisted his head rather quickly with anger as he whispered to his little brothers ear the annual big brother words of encouragement.
“Damn it Brutus, you are not fat. How many times Unk would tell you its water weight! Its ok that you look like this now. And sooner or later you can change. Right?”
“Well,”
“Well, nothing You are a good kid who loves to draw and be artsy. Hey who is your favorite superhero?”
Turner went onto the final nail of his compliments to seal the deal for, his little brother.
“The Flash?”
“That is right. And the flash is too quick for dickheads to land their insults upon you. so, remember that”
Brutus smiled with confidence again with a slight bounce to his step as he continued back to his survey.
As Did Turner who resumed his stage left view looking at all the un-used tables and sitting areas and empty chairs. In-visioning the occupations they all had once a upon a time ago.
He was canvassing when out of the far back into the one un-used dining area in the shadows but, with just enough day light to showcase a silhouette. Turner locked eyes with a man.
Into what his young mind perceived to be a man. Part of his face was hidden due to the oversized black top hat he was wearing upon his crown but the part that was in the light (faintly) gave a demonic feel. As his skin was albino white. Flesh colored. No facial hair and clean shaven. It seemed As Turner was studying that feature, (he was showing so freely) the mans, glowing red eye glared at him.
The man’s hands were folded and gloved one moment, then separated the next to raise his hand to touch the rim of his hat to tip it-towards Turner’s direction. In the old school form of a first greeting not, meaning any sort of harm or ill will, I am sure. But, from a young boy’s stance the fear overcame him with a ricochet plot of other different scared memories of his younger days. Rolling into a connection of some sort when it came to this sighting of this man. He did not know what to do, until Brutus shook him out of the trance violently.
“Turner! Turner! Did you see all this orange and Purple!! there so good up here this year”
Turner who brought his site away from this man and onto his little brother and his fascination with the current approaching Holiday of “Halloween.” It helped Turner a lot. Tuning out the fear and anxiety he was experiencing when he glared upon the mysterious Red Eye man. This too brought Ms. Courtney Serek away from the hot gossip that was spilled into her ear from The Southern Belle Receptionist greeting her kids again.
“Ok guys come on we only have four hours today-got to make the most of it” She tugged on little brutes’ shoulder for him to join her near the front of the formation leaving Turner once again to be the caboose.
