Mr. Forgettable #Wattys2016

18

It was rather late when Larkin arrived home. She knew she had to go to school in the morning, but something had been nagging at her since she arrived at her aunt's home.

That room.

Her usual guest room was locked up. For years, ever since she could remember, she had stayed in that guest room without fail. Why wasn't she staying there now? Something had happened since the last time Larkin visited, and she was determined to find out what it was. The only thing in her way was a locked door. However, locked doors were no issue to Larkin, for she could simply walk through them.

As she walked through the wall and into her room, she made up her mind. She would visit that room. She would find out what her aunt was hiding.

With stealth that could only be achieved by a super, Larkin slinked through her door and out into the hallway. The normal nighttime noises of the house were only amplified by her enhanced hearing. The almost-silent scamperings of mice in the walls sounded like raindrops on a metal roof to Larkin. She could even hear the faint snores of her aunt in the other room, assuring her that she was still asleep.

Larkin treaded carefully on the old wooden flooring of her aunt's home. It was notorious for creaking if one stepped in the right places. However, Larkin knew exactly where she needed to go to avoid making any noise. Or, at least, she thought she did. When she was halfway to the other guestroom's door, she placed her foot in exactly the wrong spot, and the floor let out a sharp groan.

Cringing, Larkin lifted her foot slowly, hoping the floor wouldn't groan again. It creaked a great creak that was only amplified by the previous silence. She bit the inside of her cheek, praying that her aunt wouldn't wake up. Aunt Libby had expressly forbade Larkin from entering the guestroom, and she wasn't about to get caught doing exactly that.

Larkin paused to listen for Aunt Libby's snoring. Hearing that her aunt was still sawing logs, she continued down the hallway to the locked door of the guestroom. She stopped in front of the familiar door.

Larkin walked through. She had no qualms about breaking her aunt's rules if it provided her with answers. When she arrived on the other side, she didn't notice any immediate differences. With her sharp eyesight, Larkin could tell that the nineties floral wallpaper was still pasted onto the walls. A dainty glass vanity sat in the corner with seashells resting on it, and a faux-fur rug sat on top of the carpet. Larkin sighed, remembering all the memories she had acquired while staying in this room at her aunt's house.

She walked further into the room and saw the closed closet door and an open window. The queen size bed sat in the middle of the room.

It was all so familiar to Larkin. It was all the same. It wasn't messy, like her aunt claimed it to be. It hadn't had any changes at all since Larkin had last stayed over.

Then she noticed a difference; a very big difference. Furrowing her eyebrows, Larkin hesitantly moved forward, closer to the bed. The handstitched quilt her grandma had made for Aunt Libby still rested on the bed, but something was off. The bed was not smooth and well kempt. It had a lump on it. It had one very large, person shaped lump on it, underneath the quilt. Larkin was fairly certain it wasn't a pile of pillows.

She took one cautious step forward. She stopped. She couldn't risk the person waking up. Her aunt obviously knew about the strange person sleeping in her house, so the person would probably mention it to Aunt Libby if he or she was woken up in the middle of the night.

Despite her warnings to herself, Larkin took another step. She had to see the person's face. She had to. Who could her aunt be sheltering that she didn't want Larkin to know about? Luckily, the carpeted floors didn't make any noises when she walked, so she took another step, almost standing over the person now.