Lost And Then Found (Ib Fanfiction)

The Mannequin's Photo

Ib woke up feeling uncomfortably warm as she heard someone snoring beside her. She lifted her head and saw Garry was sleeping, his mouth hanging partially open as he snored. Ib was silent for a few minutes, just letting her mind wake up, and then she hurriedly climbed off of the couch, careful not to wake Garry up while she did. There was a note on the table. Ib, it began. Me and your father have left for work. Be back in a few hours. Eat breakfast. Do something. Love, mom. Ib went into her bedroom and grabbed some clothes, going to the bathroom. She turned on the shower and quickly cleaned herself and washed her hair, changing into a red T-shirt and black jeans and walking out with her hair still dripping wet. She hurried to the kitchen and frowned, unsure what to make for breakfast. She still hadn't decided when she heard Garry wake up and groan. "Son of a...Ouch." He walked into the kitchen and Ib looked up at him. He looked half-asleep and was chewing on a slice of cold pizza slowly, leaning against the door's edge. "What're you doing?" he asked as he swallowed another bite. "I was looking for something to make for breakfast, but I guess we already got that figured out, don't we?" Garry nodded, yawning. "I'm not a morning person," he said in a dull voice. "You can sleep longer. I'm just going to be cleaning around." Garry looked around the kitchen. "Cleaning the dust particles off of furniture in your attic, you mean? This place is spotless." Ib shrugged helplessly, feeling like a little kid again. "C'mon. We can move some of those boxes and figure out what we're doing today then." Ib nodded, walking into the living room to take a cold slice of pizza.

Ib let out a squeak as she picked up the heavy box. Garry laughed softly and Ib blushed, struggling to hoist it up to him. He picked it up easily and pushed it somewhere further in the attic. They'd spent almost an hour moving boxes, and Garry's temporary bedroom was now only a few boxes away from beind clean. Ib turned to his room and picked up another box. This one was easier to carry and she lifted it up to Garry. "Y'know, Ib, I don't even know how old you are anymore," Garry commented. "Just about eighteen," Ib replied, struggling to push up a large flat box. Garry grabbed it from her and shoved it into the attic. "This is the last box," Ib said, handing him a small square-shaped box. "Oh, it's got something in it. It's a photo-AHHHH!!!" Garry let out a terrified cry and threw the photo down. Ib glanced at it, her mouth wide open in shock at what she saw. It was one of the mannequin heads from the gallery. Ib picked it up, shaking, after a few minutes and let out a rough breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She blinked and the photo began turning white. "Garry," she whispered. "It's gone. Did you see it?" The photo was blank now. Garry was trembling so badly the ladder was shaking. "Ib," he whispered. "It was a mannequin head. From the gallery." Ib nodded, feeling like her heart had jumped up into her throat. "Did we imagine it, Ib?" Garry asked gently, as if he was trying not to scare her. "No, Garry," Ib said softly. "I don't think we did."

After the mannequin head incident, Ib decided to go on a walk. Garry had gone to sleep on the sofa, tired and still scared about the picture. Ib was confused about it. They hadn't imagined it, she was certain. She had the solid proof in her hands. Ib walked past the abandoned house and stopped at the gallery, her heart pounding. Ib counted slowly to ten inside her head, took the picture out of her pocket, and set it down in front of the gallery. She ran home afterwards, her nerves rattled and her heart thumping. Garry was still sleeping, his body taking up the whole couch as he stretched out, his arm hanging over the edge. Ib washed the few dishes in the sink and went into the living room, sitting down on the couch next to Garry's. Ib kept quiet for a few minutes. She was about to get up and make something to eat when the phone rang. Garry snapped awake, looking around with wide lavender eyes. Ib took the phone and answered it, staring curiously at Garry. He smiled at her, scratching the back of his head like he was embarassed. "Ib, sweetie?" Her mother's voice came through the other end. "I'm driving home. Is there anything you might need from the store?" Ib paused, thinking. "Do you need anything from the store?" she asked Garry quietly. "Get some waffles," he suggested, pressing his face down into a pillow. "And whipped cream." Ib asked her mother and she laughed. "Oh, all right. I'll be home in twenty minutes." She disconnected and Garry peeked out at Ib from the pillow. "You ever tried waffles and whipped cream?" he asked her. Ib thought about it for a minute and then shrugged. "Not that I can remember. I don't eat a lot of j-" Garry sat up quickly. "Ouch. Okay, that's just disappointing, Ib. Waffles and whipped cream is one of life's finest pleasures. You know, if people still make those." Garry smiled. "I don't really know what's 'in' anymore, you know?" Ib nodded. Unfortunately, she didn't even know what was popular now, never being a person to talk to others. "You can fill me in, Ib," Garry said, stretching. He winced and quickly pulled his arm back. "Still a little sore." Ib nodded and looked at the time. It was only 4 PM. "Do you-did you live around here?" she asked him. Garry nodded. "Yeah. Believe it or not, I lived close to the gallery." Ib nodded, surprised at the strange coincidence. "The gallery's not too far from here. If you want, we can go find it? It's only four." Garry thought about it, his eyes almost glazing over in concentration. "All right. Let's see if I can remember the way there, Ib!" He jumped up and put on the blue coat he'd had in the gallery, all those years ago. It didn't look any different. Ib took her cream colored hoodie and pulled it over her head. Garry opened the door and motioned for her to go through first. "Ha! Ib, look at us," Garry exclaimed while they were walking. "Just like in the gallery, right?" He laughed softly and then let out a sigh. "Look at us," he repeated quietly, sighing. Ib stayed silent, not sure whether Garry was actually speaking to her or to himself. Ib was surprised when Garry turned to the road with one house, and then he gasped when he saw it. "Wow. It looks...sad," he said meekly. Ib looked at the house with wonder. She'd never thought that Garry would have lived there. "It was...with my parents..." Garry bolted into a run towards the front door. "Ma? Are you in here?" He tried twisting the door open. It was locked. Ib followed slowly behind. Garry's face was covered in the tree's shadows, but she could see his jaw clenching as he tried to understand what had happened. Then realization hit him. "Ib," he said softly. "Wh...where do you think they went?" Ib didn't know. Garry rammed the door with his shoulder and grit his teeth with the pain. "Garry, stop! Maybe there's an open window." He nodded, looking relieved to have another option. They walked around the house. Most of the windows were boarded shut. Garry looked dejected as they tried the next window. Ib shoved hard against it and felt it move a few centimeters. "It's stuck," she squeaked, pushing up hard. "Let me," Garry said, standing next to her. He pushed up and let out a long breath as the window opened, inch by inch. "Ib, go through and open the front door." Garry stepped back and Ib lifted herself inside the window. She slipped on the wet floor and almost landed on her rear in ankle-deep water. "You're all right, Ib?" Garry asked worriedly. "Yeah. Yes. Just tripped a little. Go to the front." She waded through the water to the front door and unlocked it with some diffficulty. Garry walked inside and stepped back out just as fast, surprised at the water. "Wow. I knew the pipes were pretty old, but still..." He began walking around, and then Ib saw a photograph of him and two older people near a mirror hanging on the wall. Garry turned to see what she was looking at and picked up the photograph. He stared from it to the mirror, his eyebrows narrowed in thought but his eyes shining with horrified amazement. "I didn't change at all," he whispered. He pulled the mirror off the wall and dropped it on the ground, and there was barely a sound when it sank into the water. He was about to put the photo back, but hesitated and slipped it into his coat pocket instead. Ib looked away, turning into the kitchen to explore. There was a yellowed newspaper on the table, which was damp and rotting apart. "Garry," Ib called to him. It was hard to read, but Ib managed to figure out the headline, 'Teen missing for two weeks, no appearance since missing,'. Garry looked at it from beside Ib. "I think we should go," he suggested. "Wait here." He turned and walked through the dark hallway and was quiet for a few minutes. Then he came out with a small suitcase. "This is all I could find that hasn't fallen apart yet," he said, patting the case. "Let's go."

Ib stared at the television without emotion, barely registering the colors and shapes on the screen. Garry had fallen asleep in his bedroom and Ib was left alone to think. She sighed and turned off the television, stepping quietly up the stairs into her own bedroom, but not before pausing and turning back to Garry's. She opened the door silently and stood still, listening. Garry was making a rough rasping sound and Ib opened it more. "Garry?" she asked in a soft voice. He didn't say anything and Ib walked to his bed. He had his face in the pillow, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Ib sat beside him, humming softly to calm him down. "It'll be all right," she whispered, half to Garry, half to herself. "All right." She tentatively reached a hand over to Garry's hair and gently smoothed it down, waiting until she heard Garry's breathing turn into slow and deep breaths before she got up and went to her own bedroom.

~~~Sorry's Note~~~

Awright, sorry that was a little dramatic ^.^" And doubly sorry that it was pretty short, too :/. I've suddenly realized that although Garry coming back is big, I think it should be part of a bigger plot, and it's a plot that I have no idea what it is yet. Eeeyeh, sorry about that, I'll have an idea by Friday, I swear! Other than that, just sorry that it's short and I don't have a plot yet. Will update soon! 

P.S. In case you didn't realize, all my years are messed up D: Ib's seventeen, but she grew up nine years, when she was nine. She should be eighteen, and so I've realized that all my ages are messed up. I think I'll fix them while I'm brainstorming a plot.

P.P.S. I really need to brainstorm for a plot -_-'

P.P.P.S. I DIDN'T PROOFREAD D: SORRY FOR THAT TOO.

Edit: I didn't realize this was three pages, even without this part. Woah.