THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

032; rafe & wheezie

The sun was shining and the house laid still. Rafe awoke abruptly in his bed, having had a bad dream. He couldn't remember what his nightmare had been about, just that it had left him feeling drained and anxious. He rolled onto his back, dragging the palms of his hands across his face. The light of the morning flooded through the blinds of his large room. Rafe groaned, feeling out of breath. He hadn't slept well, but it wasn't anything new. He more than often awoke not feeling well rested, it was something that he was used to by now. And the nightmares too, they would come along every now and then. It had been like that since he was ten years old. Some he could remember, others were just a blur.

Rafe grabbed his phone, looking at the time. 09:48 am, late enough for the house to be filled with life, yet it laid oddly silent. No one was rustling around in the kitchen, the tv wasn't on and nothing could be heard from the garden. Usually he would hear his father walking around taking on the phone this time a day, and Rose would've been down in the kitchen making a late breakfast or baking bread or mixing drinks. Wheezie would be swimming or sunbathing with loud music blaring out of her Bluetooth speaker. Rose also wasn't one to keep inside in the kitchen all day as the sun shone, when she wasn't there she would be out in the garden planting flowers or watering their lawn with a glass of wine in her hand. If Sarah was around, she was often found talking and laughing annoyingly loud with Wheezie, but nothing. Everything was quiet. No clinking, so music, no talking, no laughing and no rustling around.

Rafe got out of his bed after another ten minutes or so had passed, dragging his feet across the floor of his room to look out of his window. He didn't see anyone, everything was still, so he got dressed and walked downstairs. The kitchen was empty, so was the living room and the dining room. "Dad?" he called out, walking around the house, "Rose?". He peered out of a window, seeing their large driveway. One of the Cameron family's cars was gone, a nice expensive jet black sports car, so Rafe assumed that his dad had gone with Rose to the island club. He sighed, walking upstairs again. "Sarah? Wheezie?" he called out as he reached the top of the stairs. It took a moment, but soon Wheezie opened the door to her room, plopping her head out, "what?"

"Wheezie" Rafe spoke, stopping at the top of the stairs. "Yeah, what do you want Rafe?" the young girl with the dark hair asked, clearly a little agitated. "Where is everybody?" Rafe asked, slowly walking over towards his youngest sister. "Dad and Rose are out golfing and Sarah... uhm, I don't know where she is actually, but she's not here" Louisa answered. Rafe nodded faintly, stopping by his sister's door. "What are you up to today?" he asked, sticking his hands into his pockets. "I don't know" Wheezie muttered, shrugging her shoulders, "some reading maybe?". Rafe raised his eyebrows, "it's a hot summer day and you're gonna stay inside... to read?"

"Ugh you sound like dad"

Louisa's comment was sly and laced with annoyance, but it made Rafe chuckle. The way she said that he sounded like their dad, he kinda liked that. "I'm just saying Wheeze... reading? Really?" Rafe asked again. "Yeah I've got some summer reading to do Rafe" the thirteen year old girl muttered, a look of boredom upon her face, "I'm actually going back to school in the fall, much unlike one of us". Wheezie's unbothered tone in her voice changed into something a little more teasing as she spoke. A faint grin began to spread across her lips as she mocked her older brother. "Oh shut up" Rafe groaned, poking his sister's side. "I'm just saying" Wheezie laughed, to which Rafe playfully rolled his eyes. In this way she was way too much like him, even though they were six years apart. Although she seemed in a bad mood today. Her usual sass was laced with some kind of poison.

Rafe let Louisa be to do her reading, assuming that she would soon scurry out into the garden to lay in the sun as she flipped through whatever book her English teacher had forced her to read over the summer break. So he walked down the stairs again, not wanting to spend the entire day locked away in his room. He had a bowl of cereal and a glass of ice tea in the kitchen, slumping down at the island in the centre of the room. Out of boredom he let his eyes wander across the tall ceiling as he spun his spoon around in the milk in his bowl. Wheezie didn't come out of her room, much to Rafe's surprise. She stayed quiet up there, no music playing or nothing.