"ARIA MAEVE BROWN, get your butt down here now!" I yelled from downstairs for the millionth time. There was no reply. "That's it, I'm coming up!" I warned my younger sister, bounding up the stairs. It was already twelve and she still hadn't come down. 

I barged into her room angrily.

"Get up, Aria!" I said, shaking her violently from her position on the bed. 

She shoved me away and pulled her quilt of embroidered roses over her head to drown out my incessant nagging.

"Shhh...would you please lower your voice? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep here," she said, swatting at my hand. I yanked the blanket off her.

"If you don't come down now, I'll-I'll..." I trailed off, trying to think of something that would force her out of bed. "I'll eat all the brownies Mom made in the morning."

I didn't have to say it twice. She was up and running down the stairs like her life depended on it.

Why didn't I think of that earlier!

I followed after her down the stairs, laughing at her antics. By the time I reached the bottom floor she was already at the kitchen bench, shovelling the freshly-baked fudge brownies in her face. 

"Mmm...these are so good," she said, her mouth dusted with tiny crumbs. It amazed me how she could be so insufferable and adorable at the same time.

"Once you're done eating, could you please change into something that isn't your unicorn pyjamas? Mom wants us to pay a visit to our new neighbour," I told her.

"Whyyy?" she whinged. "Why does Mom have to always do this every time someone new moves in?"

"Aria!" I reprimanded her, even though I'd thought the same thing earlier, "Mom's just trying to be nice and accommodating." 

She groaned in reply before heading upstairs to freshen up. 

By the time my younger sister had finished getting ready, I had lost all interest in visiting the new neighbour, wanting only to stay in my curled up position on the couch and continue watching television.

She entered the living room dressed in a light brown tank top and black jeans which I was sure she'd stolen from my wardrobe. "C'mon let's get this over and done with," she said pulling me up from where I was laying on the couch. This time it was I who groaned in exasperation.  

Grabbing a few brownies that I'd saved from Aria's perpetual appetite, we both walked over to the new neighbour's house.

When we reached the slick, black front door, I banged my knuckles three times on the cold wood. 

Almost immediately, the door opened and we were met with the face of a middle-aged woman. She had long, auburn hair that looked as though it had been hastily tied into a bun and stunning blue eyes that exuded friendliness.

"Oh...hello there," she said, smiling widely so that her perfect pearly-white teeth could be seen.

"Hi! We're from next door. We brought this for you...to welcome you to our neighbourhood," I said, awkwardly holding out the container of brownies to her. 

She smiled even wider.

"Oh... you're both so sweet! I'm Ivory, by the way. Would you guys like to come in?" she asked, opening the door wider for us. 

Hesitantly, we entered. The inside of the house smelled like a mixture of cigarette smoke and freshly-ground coffee, which wasn't the most pleasant combination. On the walls, dry paint had begun peeling from the edges and with each step we took, the wooden floorboards creaked. 

"Sorry about the house. There's still a lot of work that needs to be done," Ivory stated to the both of us. 

She led us down the narrow hallway, its paint peeling walls already painted over in a beautiful cream-white shade; the only part of the house that had already been done up. Embellishing these walls were numerous framed photos capturing myriads of memories. They were arranged in a horizontal line and I noticed that in most of them, the same boy with honey-blonde hair and blue eyes kept appearing. 

In the first few photos, he was only a newborn nestled comfortably into the arms of a nurse. A few photos across, he had grown into a beaming toddler standing in a sea of golden sunflowers. The sun shining down on him made him look ethereal; the most radiant flower of them all.

I grazed my fingers on the photos, entranced by them as the memories seemed to surge into me.

It felt wrong somehow. Like I was prying into intimate parts of this boy's life. Like I was beginning to familiarise myself with this stranger. 

My fingers kept running across the frozen moments until I reached the end of the hallway. In the last photo of the boy, it looked to be his birthday. Behind him in the photo towered a two-tier cake with the words 'Happy 18th Birthday Flynn' written in red icing.

Something twinged in me as I stared at the boy's face, at the way he was grinning so widely - like nothing in the world could take away his happiness.

And then there were no more memories.

"How old are you two?" Ivory inquired politely as we reached the living room, gesturing for us to sit. Boxes were strewn everywhere, some taped tightly and others half-open. 

"I'm 18," I said, planting myself down on the hard leather couch. A wistful look crossed her face. "And my sister, Aria, is ten," I continued gesturing  next to me where Aria sat looking bored out of her mind. 

"Do you live here by yourself?" Aria questioned at an attempt to seem friendly.

"Sadly, yes," she replied with a forced smile before quickly changing the subject. "So what do you girls do? I'd imagine both of you are still in school?"

The conversation continued amiably as Ivory brought out some coffee and a tin of cookies which my sister quickly devoured. She told us about how she'd moved from her small apartment complex not far from here because she'd decided it was time for a change of scenery as well as touching on her plans to renovate the new house. 

I found it hard to focus on what she was saying though, because throughout the entire conversation my mind kept flitting back to the photos on the wall, especially the last one. The boy's face had been emblazoned in my mind. I longed to ask Ivory who he was.

And why, for some odd reason, I felt like I had seen him before.