The boy in the garden

Chapter 22 two

1890.
Boys point of view
Years before rose was born or anyone in this time. I was a writer. Hours after hours. I would spend all my time locked up in a small poor carpeted office.
Some days I slept there. Some days I ate there. But more often than not, I was always there.
Where days turned into nights and years. I worked hard piecing stories together and trying to recreate my own newspaper.
My parents who were aristocrats paid no mind to me. They had disowned me when I took up a job that required more energy and less pay. If that's what you want. To throw our name away you go ahead. Just don't come back here. And like that at the age of 17 I had left.

One day in the papers. I saw a job application for a writing position for a small upper class family. I would work with the head of the household and write letters to whoever he wanted and write bedtime stories for the children.
What I didn't know was that it was all a lie. Excited and searching for new adventure. I took a 3 hour ferry to reach the house.
The house although small and peculiar. Had the most beautiful garden I had ever seen. No amount of wealth could have prepared me for this.
As I opened the gate to the white picket fence and came across a flower. A white rose, I picked it. Not noticing I pricked my finger on the thorn. With a bloody finger I clicked the doorbell and waited for an answer.
There was none. So I opened the door. Immediately I opened the door. What seemed to be a glowing blue light around the door passed me and hit a light outside the house. I ran and closed the door behind me.
" hello !" I yelled out and still no one
" excuse me. I'm here for the job. I saw your advertisement in the papers "
Still nothing, the was a bird however. 
Startled when I heard a noise from behind me. I jumped. " oh it's just you "
" come in, young master " the bird spoke.
And that is when I knew I was in trouble
" a bird , you talk " .
" No, no , no " I cried out loud pulling my curly hair.
" I do not like shouting. Maybe some tea. I let the kettle on" and like that he disappeared.
It was then that all sense of time seemed to pass me by. I thought I was insane. Drinking tea from a talking bird. In a large house that was empty. This was the bridge of insanity. Maybe I was still asleep on the ferry. I tried pinching and pinching but I couldn't for the life of me wake up.
" it's no use ". The bird spoke up after sipping his tea
" What is your name ?" He asked me. I did not reply
" Alright, we'll my name is Sebastian" he ended.
Shaking my head slowly, I sipped some more black tea. The moment the bird got up to take the tea set back to the kitchen I ran to the door and tried to open it.
" Tsk, tsk. Young master. It can't open "
" why ?" I asked
" Don't you see. You closed the door behind you with your own free well and now the house owns you. You can't open it again. Only someone from outside "
" is this how you got here ? " I asked.
" never mind how I got here. You should be thinking how you will get out ".
" how can I go out ?" I asked.
" you can't !". And with that the bird laughed till he fell.
Red in the face, this all seemed like a stupid child book whose author was cruel.
" so you mean to tell me that a house now owns me because I opened the door "
" yes" he replied
" then who wrote the advertisement in the papers"
" I did " he said
" and why is that ?"
" because I am the aristocrat family ".
It took me some time to put piece by piece together. I knew this house. I had been here before. When I was younger.
" isn't this the house that burnt and the entire family died"
" yes " the bird answered. Watching my face with amazement.
" Emily " I recalled. A girl who used to live here and I played with.
" yes it was Emily's family ."
" and you were they're exotic bird " I gasped in horror.
" did you do this ?" I ask. Asking myself why I would ask a murder if he murdered someone.
" no young master. I can't take credit for this. Emily did it."
" No"
" Yes"
" Emily killed her entire family. Even me. But I was the only innocent thing in this house and so the house decided to save me. But each of them one by one died, burnt to death ".
" Then why does the house look like this ? "I asked.