Threads.

Different-colored threads surrounded her--some were white, some blue, some red, and some gold. Against the dark, they glowed, encompassing her and extending like infinite lines.

Not too far from her, a figure of a man stood. He seemed familiar but she couldn't see his face even when her eyes squinted. Who is he? The man's hand reached out to touch one of the threads and then--

Claire woke up with a gasp.

"Are you alright, missy?" A rough voice asked her from the front of the car.

"Y-yeah, I am." She sat up straight and looked out of the car's window. Endless, thick vegetation surrounded the path. Sleeping made her forget that she was in a cab on her way to the old mansion of the Belmonte family, situated at the foot of Mt. Tenebro.

For a moment, she regretted taking the job as an assistant to the caretaker of the mansion. It was located very far from the heart of the town where most people were and there were a lot of scary stories surrounding it. But, she also knew she didn't have a choice. If she wanted to go to college and be a teacher, she had to find a job and the offer of working at the Belmontes' ancestral home would give her enough money. No, actually, even more. She could save up and even give some to her family.

The cab stopped in front of a pair of tall, steel gates. An old butler clad in a black suit, gray waistcoat, and black bow tie opened it and motioned them in.

The plump, balding cab driver maneuvered the car inside. "Such a nice piece of property, that is," he said in his rough voice.

And he was right. Claire was struck with awe as she looked around them. The three-story colonial mansion, named Palasyo Marilag by the illustrious Belmonte family, was painted with new white paint and decorated with flowering vines. It had several rooms with balconies, a patio, and an attic with an open window. In front of the mansion was a well-tended garden with bermudagrass, fully-blooming flowers, and bushes shaped like chubby cherubs. The sunlight gleamed on the droplets of water on the petals and the greens. On one side was a fountain with statues of winged angels, sprouting fresh water from their cemented basins several feet high. The place was marvelous and Claire couldn't help but gape. From most of the people's view in the center of the town, Palasyo Marilag looked eerie and unwelcoming, but being here, she realized they were wrong. It wasn't too bad. It looked warm and cheery.

An image of a happy family in church flashed in her mind--the Belmontes ten years ago--and a chill ran down her spine.

But, she shouldn't forget that the gargantuan house still held secrets.

The car stopped and the wooden doors of the mansion opened, revealing a petite, thin, bobbed hair woman in her fifties dressed in a light pink suit and pencil skirt. An easy smile rested on her face as she saw Claire. "How you've grown, Ms. Mendoza."

Claire got out of the cab. She wondered if she should've dressed more formally. That she shouldn't have dressed in simple jeans and a white tee. She told the caretaker, "Just call me Claire. Should I be in formal wear, too? Sorry, I don't have clothes like that with me."

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Claire. We have prepared your uniforms for you. Bettina believes you and I have the same body measurements. Come. I'll show you to your room. Oh, wait." The woman shouted, "Edgar! Edgar!"

The gardener with the body of a wrestler appeared and walked toward them, holding a pair of hand pruners. "Yes, ma'am?" He was frowning, like he didn't like the way the caretaker was distracting him from his job.

The older woman didn't seem to mind the man's sour expression. "Will you take Claire's baggage with you and put it in her room, please?" she asked him.

"Sure, ma'am." The burly gardener threw his hand pruners by the door and proceeded on carrying the three big bags from the trunk of the cab with loud grunts.

Claire paid the cab driver and followed the caretaker inside. The mansion's wood herringbone floors were polished and shining so brightly that Claire was reluctant at first to step on them, but Ms. Suarez trod on them with no hesitation.

"We are at the part of the house that is called the central passage." The caretaker motioned to her left. "The room there is the music room. Right beside it is the front parlor. On our right is a guest bedroom and next to it is a little parlor. Straight ahead is the dining area, kitchen at its back, and the butler's pantry."

The mansion consisted mainly of wood--wooden walls, stairs, and decorations--painted in white. Here and there were statues and pictures of cute little cherubs and beautiful angels. Like heaven, she thought.

The fragrant scent of the fresh white roses in the vases all around them tickled Claire's nose. The large paintings of the families who once lived in the ancient home got her attention, particularly the newest of them. She found herself standing in front of the family portrait of Mr. Fernando Belmonte. The middle-aged man was in a dark brown suit, sitting on a soft maroon sofa with the smallest smile. Beside him, looking all cheery was his wife, Katarina Belmonte, dressed in a cream long gown. Their two children stood by their sides, the beautiful kid Katie and their only son, the youngest named Keith.

Claire frowned and put a hand on her chest as she stared into the young Keith's brown eyes. He was around eight when the portrait was made. Claire remembered the two of them running around and getting scolded at the church downtown. They'd always been close and she considered him her first love. When they were still kids, she fancied herself growing up and marrying the Belmonte heir. But then, one dark and stormy night, ten years ago, he and his family suddenly disappeared. Nobody knew where they went and why they disappeared. They just vanished without a trace, leaving behind all their belongings including phones, laptops, and cars. Even the police could not solve the mystery and the people of the town of Sta. Barbara could only pray that the family was alright somewhere.

"Your room is on the second floor." Ms. Suarez was at the top of the stairs gesturing toward the right. "It's a guest room beside the library. Do you like to read, Claire?"

She started climbing the white wooden stairs. "Yes, Ms. Suarez, I do."

"Please call me Linda. Everybody does in this house."

"Okay, Linda."

With the promise that she would tour the girl around the mansion later, the older woman smiled and led Claire to her room. It was spacious, bigger than her room downtown. Her family's rented apartment only had two rooms, one for her father and her two brothers and the other she shared with her two sisters. Claire was a daughter of a carpenter who earned very little. The idea was for Claire to finish high school and then start working because her father didn't have enough money to send her to college. But, the job at the Belmonte mansion was offered to her by Bettina, one of the maids of the ancestral house, one Sunday assembly at the church. And Claire gladly took it.

Claire stepped inside the room. The single bed was covered with a clean white cover and the window had frilly cream curtains. A desk drawer with a vase of flowers was beside a tall, large cabinet. There was even a table with a vanity mirror near her bed. A chair was in front of it. She would later learn that the place was one of the prettiest rooms in Palasyo Marilag. She felt like a princess. "This is beautiful," she remarked as she looked around.

"Fit for a beautiful girl like you." The caretaker looked at her wristwatch. "It's still early. Would you like to have some tea before I show you how to commute to your school?"

"That'll be lovely," Claire replied.

"Meet me at the patio." The older woman headed toward the stairs as Edgar put Claire's baggage in the room and left her too.

Running her fingers over the furniture, Claire noted that there was no dust on it. They were clean and well-taken care of. Like the hollow mansion brimmed with life. Like the Belmontes were still here. Goosebumps almost formed on her skin, but she instantly shook the uneasy feeling away. She stood up and took her school uniform from her luggage.

The tea time with Linda lasted for almost an hour. As the older woman promised, the commute to her school from the Belmonte mansion was easy. The car, driven by a young, friendly driver named Yulo, took her to the nearest bus station which stopped in front of Southeast High.

"You're late." Wendy, Claire's best friend since elementary, pulled the wooden chair from the empty desk beside Claire and sat near her. Her long black hair was styled in twin tails and her large dark eyes were covered with blue-rimmed eyeglasses. Claire's seatmate, Georgie, was not in her seat because she was busy chatting with someone in one corner of the room. And she was not alone. Girls from different grades and classes swarmed there.

"It's still thirty minutes before classes start, Wendy," Claire told her.

"I wasn't referring to that. I meant that." She angled her head toward the crowd of girls gathered in their room.

"What's happening there?" she asked.

Wendy's eyes were shining when she replied, "New student. Name's Jonathan Del Monte. Excellent in archery and plays the piano. Incredibly hot."

Claire mouthed an insincere "Oh".

Wendy leaned toward her. "I'm serious. Just look at the other girls. They're all going gaga over him. He's so talented and he's like the lovechild of Henry Cavill and Santiago Cabrera. I mean, someone like him really exists!"

A chuckle, then Claire tried to take a peek at the mystery student. She focused on looking through the small gap between the bodies of the girls and finally saw him. His brown hair was a bit long and it looked like his eyes were a light gray. The boy really was good-looking but something was off about him. Like his nose was too thin and small for his square face and his eyes didn't smile when his mouth did. But he looked friendly and nice enough, talking to those who wanted even just a sliver of his attention. Suddenly, he stopped chatting with the girls and looked in Claire's direction.

Their eyes met. His light gray eyes stared deep into her black orbs.

An image appeared at the back of Claire's mind: the mysterious man in her dreams, touching the different-colored threads surrounding them. The image was strong as it stuck in her memory.

Why did he remind her of that dream?

Weird.

They both looked away. The stranger continued charming the other girls as Claire continued preparing for class. Maybe the image meant nothing. Maybe the stranger just piqued her interest, and that was why she associated him with the man in her dream. Anyway, it wouldn't matter. Even how much she became interested in the boy, they lived in different worlds--he an obvious darling of the crowd while she was a common nobody. Better not to have unnecessary feelings for him. Their paths would never cross.

But, when classes ended, the very handsome Jonathan Del Monte seemed to be following Claire. She realized it when the boy walked after her across the halls, down the stairs, and into the streets. The boy took the same bus and got off at the same station.

Claire clutched her backpack tightly. What is this? Is he stalking me? Did I do something wrong? The girl glanced at her back and saw, indeed, the boy just a few paces behind her. Hurrying, she ran toward the black Mercedes of the Belmonte household, parked on a wide road. Jonathan still followed her and their hands touched as she was about to open the car's door.

The girl looked up and saw the boy smiling at her. "Let me open the door for you, Claire."

Word Count: 2,065
Total Word Count: 2,065