Benjamin

I kept scrolling through the images on my Canon AE-1 camera, my finger blandly pressing the side arrow. Bored and annoyed, I deleted half the pictures I saw. Sure, my friends said they were good, but even slightly blurry pictures deserved to be terminated.

"Ben, will you put that damn thing down for at least two seconds?" my father yelled, for professedly no reason whatsoever. I imagine it was justified though since my mother slapped his arm, which he then complained was a driving hazard.

Long story short, my father is an asshole.

My mother never really knew how to act around him either. She's a sweet, very smart woman, but apparently isn't smart enough to know how to stand up to him, which I have to admit, is utterly disappointing.

I ignored him and continued to look at my camera, scrolling through pictures of flowers, the ocean, all up until I got to one picture of my childhood friend, Bella. Shes had blue hair up in two buns since she was 13. I was 11, and she claimed that she wasn't herself unless she had blue hair like the ocean, so that no matter where she goes, it can be a part of her. I laughed at her then, but it's not so absurd.

Moving to this new house was a decision I truly couldn't comprehend, I guess the city was just too much for my father, so we came here to get some 'fresh air'.

We finally pulled up to the house. It was painted a very pale shade of blue, but the paint curled on the walls as if it had suffered every storm possible without any care between. It seemed a bit tall, possibly three stories high, and I couldn't recall if my father mentioned a basement, so it possibly could have been four.

We parked around the side, on an old dirt driveway. The windows looked rusted, and a part of me despised getting out of the car and having to live here for the next few months.

Thank god ill be able to see Bella. She doesn't live too far away. The town was simply about a 20-minute drive from the house, and Bella lived in her own small apartment there, thank the lord I'd have somewhere to go other than here.

We sluggishly began to unpack the car. I grabbed my bag and my suitcase then dragged them around to the front of the house, where an old porch stood, with a door that was a slightly darker shade of blue than the walls were.

Stepping inside, the floorboards made a terrible creaking sound that almost made me jump. Nothing in the house had been dusted, and almost all the shutters draping on the windows were closed, letting nearly no light in.

I was already done with this shithole.

I immediately snatched my phone from my back pocket and called Bella while my parents hauled their luggage up the stairs.

And of course, there was no answer.

***

Bella

I leaned on the filthy counter, my face resting against my hand, as I gazed outside the windows. A faint playlist of shitty rap music was playing over the small speakers from the kitchen, where my coworker, Nolan was cleaning.

The business was way too slow today. I nearly fell asleep until the bell from the door rang, which made me jump and rush to the register, a few strands of my hair falling onto my face, but when my vision cleared, there was no one in the restaurant.

The bell had chimed, and it was gently swinging, but I didn't even hear the door shut.

Finally, my shift had ended, so I told Nolan goodnight, and walked home as the time on my watch read 8:00 PM

As I pulled up to a pastel green home, two floors and yet, still short, I walked up to the old wooden stairs, then pulled out a key from the flower pot in front of the door.

I went inside, setting my backpack down on the couch. It was an old thing, one that I had used a lot in high school, it was simply black with a very small white rose in the bottom left corner, with a gold zipper. The black had withered towards the bottom, showing all the damage I had given it.

On my way to the bathroom, I took my hair out of my two buns, then shook it around before putting the bands around my wrist.

The bathroom was slightly disorderly, with the counter having smudges of some makeup and my towels scattered on the floor, one of them forever stained of blue.

I turned on the hot water and heard the slight patting that came from the water hitting the walls, and I removed my clothing, tossing it all on the floor.

I reached my palm out to feel the temperature of the water, and when the warmth of it hit my hand, I stepped in, closing the sliding glass door.

I soaked my hair underneath the water, slightly turning every once in a while to feel the warmth on my shoulders, and my mind started to wonder to how much I hated my job at that damn fast food restaurant. Then my mind wondered to Nolan, and for a second I wished it was something good, but it never was...

I tried to get my mind off it, and I finally was able to when I heard the brass doorknob slightly turn. Before I could think, the door had opened, and a tall man had walked forward and was looking ahead of him, standing completely still.

I had no idea what to do. My phone was in my bag on the couch, plus I was cornered, I wouldn't have anywhere to run. I wanted to scream but I couldn't, so I just stood still.

I expected him t turn to the glass door and open it, and do terrible things that I could barely imagine, but instead, he turned his neck so that he was still facing forward but was looking in the mirror above my sink.

I couldn't make it out, he wasn't recognizable at all, almost like a black figure, then he turned back around and walked out the door, sluggishly, before reaching his arm behind him to grab the same brass doorknob, closing the door, leaving it slightly ajar.