I shoved my clothes inside my old blue and grey backpack. My chest hurt and my hands were shaking. I kept dropping my things, making noise that my dad hopefully didn't hear. My room was a mess from my search with sketchbooks, pencils, clothes and other various items sprinkled on the floor. I pushed everything I needed into my bag including water, food, deodorant and a photo of me and Sebastian as small kids.
Sebastian was my twin brother. Not identical, he was born first. I only barely remember him. When we were five, our parents split up and Sebastian was separated from me. Since the break up, my dad broke down and I've had to fend for myself, cooking my own meals, doing my own washing and eventually buying the groceries with my own money.
He only ever drinks. He rarely eats and somehow survives mostly on alcohol. He's drunk more often than not. Sometimes he comes home late at night, knocking things over and grumbling slurred words. He yells at me for not cleaning up inside his filthy room which is filled with empty beer cans, vodka bottles and chip packets. He sometimes calls his "friends" around for a drink. I lock myself in my room and hope they don't bash down the door.
I used to love him, try to get him over it and make him see that he's not alone. I've long since given up. If he wants to wallow in self pity for years, let him.
I walked over to my desk and picked up the most recent letter from Sebastian. This is how we've been keeping in touch for the past ten years. For some funny reason, he never puts a return address on the envelopes. I've asked him why but he wouldn't tell me. I've always had to send them to a P.O. Box. In his last letter, his handwriting was messy and his message was rushed. He talked about strange things happening around him and warned that it could happen to me. He seemed paranoid, which was unlike him. Seb was always calm and more mature than I was.
I naturally discarded this as gibberish, thinking he was pulling a stunt. He also wrote an address in his letter, saying that he would be there if I ever needed him and I took the opportunity. I was going to finally get away from my drunk of a father and see him again.
My mind was racing, filled with questions I would ask him, things I would say after ten long years. My heart pounded against my chest as I rushed around my room, grabbing things I would need and hurriedly stuffing them in my backpack. I fished my wallet from inside my pillowcase and thrust it into my pocket. I had a few hundred bucks left. I was wearing my favourite outfit: black skinny jeans, grey boots, blue hoodie and t-shirt. The perfect outfit to meet my brother in.
I hurled my bag onto my shoulder and carefully opened the door. The lounge room and kitchen were clear. I ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a white chocolate bar, Seb's old favourite. I grabbed another bottle of water and snuck an unopened coke bottle into my bag.
I passed my dads room as quietly as I could, trying not to wake him from his alcohol-induced coma. A waft of foul air blew from his room. It reeked of beer and old food. And he wondered why I never went in there. That room was a death trap for mice and rats. Attracted to the room by the smell of food, the overpowering stench of beer, wine and old unwashed clothes would gas them.
I silently gagged as I walked away and made it to the door. The old oak wood slid silently and smoothly on its hinges, not making a sound as I slipped away. As I closed the door behind me, it was as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was pumped, full of excitement for leaving this place for good. I didn't look back as I went out the gate and walked off down the street clutching Seb's letter in my hand.
••••••••••••••••
The sun was almost down by the time I found the address. I was staring at an old abandoned house, with a rusted gate and untrimmed garden. No cars were in the driveway and no lights were on. The house looked creepy in the dimming light. A chill was setting in and I shivered, suddenly aware of how alone I was. Orange, pink and purple streaks coloured the sky above, looking like they were delicately painted by an artist's loving hand. Cars driving past were turning on their headlights, rushing to get home before the light left. Other houses along the street were lighting up like giant fireflies.
I opened the gate, which groaned as soon as I touched it. I followed the small path through the severely overgrown garden, stepping up onto the creaking, wooden patio. I knocked on the door. No answer. I tried turning the knob but it jammed. I pushed it with my shoulder and suddenly, the whole door shuddered, came off its hinges and crashed to the floor.
I peeked in. On the right, a staircase twirled up into the second floor. On the left, a hall led to an open room with a couch and a few lamps. I stepped gingerly on the ancient floorboards, silently wishing for them to hold. The creaking of the wood was unbearably loud in the empty, quiet house. It probably would've been a good catch in its day.
I creeped down the hallway, not trusting the creaky old stairs to hold me if I went up. A thick layer of dust covered everything. Everything looked like it came straight from a grandma's house in the 80's. Delicate paintings were spread out over the walls and lace covered every table. The air was stale and musky, but didn't have that old people smell.
A kitchen and a bar were joined onto the lounge room, making it turn at a 100 degree angle. It was an odd shaped room and if it weren't for all the dust, I would've thought that someone still lived here. The bar had clearly been regularly polished and cleaned. The kitchenware was worn, giving the hint that the people who lived here liked to cook. There was a fireplace that had seen better days. As I wandered to get a better look, I felt something hard under my boot. I looked down and something shiny and silver winked up at me. I picked it up and turned it in my hands, trying to figure out what it was.
It was a polished cylinder of silver, with beautiful, intricate designs of coiling plants and thriving animal life. A word was written in tiny letters between the art. "Dragon". I briefly wondered what it meant. Both ends were sealed with only one having the intricate decoration. The other was plain but still shined. It's rounded edges were smooth. Unlike anything in the house, it wasn't covered with dust. It gleamed as brightly as any diamond, which made me glance down at where I picked it up from. I noticed something odd about the floor.
There were spots where the dust had been cleared away. I looked back and saw my own footprints. I could hardly see in the failing light so I flicked on my torch. The pattern of dust was irregular, looking like footprints in some areas but mostly random spots. Had something been carried or dragged around. Not knowing what to think of this, I skirted the area, and proceeed to searchthe bottom floor for the bedroom. When it wasn't found, took a risk and climbed the stairs.
Upstairs was decorated exactly the same way as downstairs. A touch of dust, layers of lace and lavish decor. The stairs led up into a large bedroom that must've covered most of the lounge room area downstairs. A high bed was draped in elegant blankets, all of which looked hand sewn. An adjoining bathroom was small and held a shower, sink and toilet. Opposite the staircase and the bathroom was a set of glass doors that led out onto a balcony. The balcony overlooked the once beautiful back garden. Weeds choked the dead flowers and brown plants littered the vegetable patch. I put my bag on the bed with a puff of dust. I looked down and noticed how the floor here was also disturbed. Probably just robbers looking for something to take, I thought, or maybe it was a stray dog.
I brushed the bed off and sat on it, having a dinner of chips, water and an apple by the light of my torch. With my stomach no longer empty and sitting on a comfortable bed, I slowly drifted off to sleep.
•••••••••••••••••••••
The world tilted and shifted around me. Shapes went in and out of focus. I heard strange sounds echoing in my mind. Suddenly, everything stabilised and I was standing on my porch. Tears streamed down my face as I watched the red car pulled with stuff turn out of the driveway. For a moment I saw Seb's small, five-year-old face pressed against the window, sobbing and pleading. I wanted to chase after him but a firm but gentle hand held me in place.
Everything shifted again and I was lying down on the floor. Pain was throbbing on the left side of my face. My cheek was swelling quickly and I heard my father slam his bedroom door. I got up, retrieved some ice as retreated to my room, holding it to my cheek and trying not to cry.
I was sitting down at school by myself at lunchtime, eating quietly and hoping not to get noticed. Four big silhouettes walked up and started to hurl abuse at me, both physical and verbal. Their words cut me as much as their attacks.
I was at a friends party, being pushed into the closet and called a freak, a monster and a witch. The door was locked and I was left in the dark. Hours later, my "friends" mum finally unlocked the door and gave me comfort.
I was dying lightning blue streaks in my jet-black hair, matching my eye colour.
I was walking out the door with a letter in my hand and my backpack on. Weight was being lifted, I was leaving forever.
I creeped into the house, looking around.
I picked up the silver cylinder and noticed the strange marks on the floor.
I was looking at myself sleeping in the old bed. A tingle of fear went up my spine as I spotted two glowing eyes in the darkness, watching me. Something sprinted up the stairs and leapt onto the bed, long, shadowy limbs aiming for me.
I bolted awake as something grabbed me. I was too terrified to scream or move. I froze, feeling warm arms slip around me, lending me comfort. My breathing was fast and I couldn't see much. Moonlight streamed in from the balcony, lighting the room with an eerie white glow.
"It's been such a long time, Hawk. I'm glad you're safe." The thing wrapped around me said.
That's when I realised who was hugging me. I threw my arms around him.
"Don't you ever scare me like that again! I almost had a heart attack!" I exclaimed as I withdrew from my embrace with Sebastian. His dark, dark brown hair looked pitch-black in the night and hung just past his jaw. I glanced quickly at the place where his eyes should be but there was only two points of faint blue in the darkness. I quickly scanned the room, looking for a pair of red eyes. Stop it, I thought, you're just being paranoid.
He smiled and I smiled back.
"What's wrong?" He asked, "You're shaking more than a massage chair!"
••••••••••••••••
We sat on the bed with a torch as I told him what had happened since we last wrote to each other. I told him about leaving home, finding this place and the tracks in the dust. I pulled out the silver cylinder and asked him if he knew what it was.
"It's a masterpiece." He stated, shining the light onto it. "Whoever made this was obviously an experienced and steady artist. As for its purpose, I have no idea. I've never seen anything like it before." he handed the gleaming object back to me.
"It has the word 'dragon' written on it but that gives away no clues." I showed him the delicate letters.
"Maybe it's part of something bigger? Perhaps there's more pieces." Seb suggested.
"I searched the house before but I couldn't find anything resembling it."
I put it back in my backpack and drew out the chocolate block.
"If I remember correctly, your favourite was white chocolate?" I said as I presented it to him with a dramatic flourish.
His face lit up and he laughed. He took the bar and gave me a one arm hug.
"Thanks. You should join in the spoils of this happy reunion!"
We split the bar, lying on the comfy bed and shared stories. When there were no more stories to tell, we made up our own. We created a story about a flatulent knight who killed all beasts with his stench. He met a lovely princess who had severely untrimmed feet. They fell in love and the princess lived with him, always wearing a peg over her nose.
We laughed and laughed until the sun started to rise.
