Chapter 3
980 Words
The week went by uneventfully. Suddenly, it was Sunday. I was seated on my bed, reading a book, when a knock sounded at my door. No one knew my home address, and I hadn't had anyone over. So, who was knocking on my door? I was wearing nothing more than a tank top and shorts when I answered the door. There was a little girl standing there. No more than 5.
"W-would y-you l-l-like to b-buy g-girl scout c-cookies?" She stuttered.
"Yeah. What kinds have you got?" The girl was still trembling. "Hey," I reached for her. She flinched back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you." I gently smiled at her. "Now, what kind of cookies have you got?"
"We have Thin Mints, Lemonades, Do-si-dos, Tagalongs, and Shortbread." Her voice was low and squeaky.
"May I have a box of Thin Mints and Lemonades? How much is that?"
She began to mumble. "5 plus 5. Ten dollars, please." Her voice was more pronounced.
I ducked my head inside, grabbing my wallet off of the table. I gave the girl two fives, which she put in her money pouch. I gave her another five, and told her to keep it. "If you ever want to sell cookies and make some extra cash, I'll be here. Okay?"
She smiled at me, a tear sliding down her face. "Thank you." She ran into my legs, grasping them. "Is it okay if I bring my sister too?" Her eyes glistened with hope. "Yeah. Of course." She waved, disappearing into the leaves and trees. I smiled after the child was long gone. There was something going on that caused her to flinch away from me. She's being neglected, I just know it. The fear was written across her face when I reached for her. As was the true happiness when she was noticed. Her long sleeves out of place on a warm day. I'm betting there are cuts, scrapes, lashes, burns, wilts, bruises, and bloody scabs under those sleeves. How could people treat others like trash? God, I hate that.
I began to walk back up the stairs to my room. Another knock.
"Come on," I whisper-snapped. I yanked the door open, to find the same girl from earlier, and who, I supposed, was her sister. They looked very similar. The one from earlier, about a year or two younger. "Hello. You must be her sister?" I held my hand out. She glared at it. I noticed with a start, they were both wearing long sleeves. "Are you guys okay? You know, safe at home?"
"Yeah, we're fine." The eldest snapped. "You gave my sister this five dollar bill, but she can't accept it. She'll get in trouble."
"For having five dollars? That's ridiculous. How about I give you both five dollars, and you hide it so you can use it for yourselves?"
"Thanks, but no. Our parents go through our room every night." Her eyes darted towards the ground. "Thank you, though. It was nice for the thought. Most people don't even try." Her eyes watered, but not a tear fell.
"If you guys ever need anything, I'm here. You can visit, and I can help. I promise. You just need to talk to me, and trust me." I smiled at them both. The eldest sister glared at me behind her sister's back. They both disappeared into the woods. I closed the door, returning to my room. My copy of Wuthering Heights, almost pristine. Considering it being two centuries old, it was in great condition. I got one of the first copies when the book came out. I decided to take my book downstairs to the living room with me.
I crossed my bare legs under me. I knotted my hair into a tight bun, sticking a pencil, found on the coffee table, through it. My hair started unraveling around the pencil, then stopped. My hair flicked off in different directions, as it always did when I put my hair up this way. I decided the house needed some smell boosters. I lit my sandalwood candle in the living room, my room, the guest room, my bathroom, the guest bathroom, and the kitchen. (I like the smell of sandalwood.) I turned on my phone, and hit shuffle play for my classical music (most I had seen performed in person). I began to get thirsty, and not for blood. I needed coffee. Warm, dark, rich coffee. I began to rise to my feet, once more. Uninterrupted, I wandered into my kitchen. I changed the filter, refilled the water, hit dark roast, and hit start. I only realized I hadn't put the pot back under it when scalding coffee hit my foot. I swore, flicking two fingers at the machine. It sputtered to a stop.
I walked to my downstairs linen closet, grabbing a towel. A shadow passed by my kitchen windows. The tingling of magic filled the air.
"Crap. I owe money," I whispered.
I heard a rumbling voice from behind me. "Right you are, love."
I turned around slowly. I smiled, all teeth. "Hey, Frazer. Want a cup of coffee?" I knew how much he loved coffee. I hoped buttering him up would help my case. He crossed his buff arms, snarling at me.
"We said you could return if you got a job and started paying us. It's payday, and you're late." He continued to glare at me.
"Frazie, baby. I'm working on it. I just got settled into school and human life. I'll get a job soon. I promise."
"Next week. You've got 5 days. Don't make us regret this choice." With that, he turned around, disappearing from the house. The feeling of magic dissipated.
"5 days? Damn. This really sucks." My head fell into my hands, elbows against the counter. "Great."
- Writer
