Our Long Lost Souls

Five

I've never really placed actors as my characters but for Mrs Wickle I can't imagine anyone else but Maggie Smith who played Professor McGonagall in Harry Potter.

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Sunlight poured from the gap of the curtains. Memories from yesterday suddenly flooded into her mind when Annika sat up with a gasp, she glanced at the clock: 09:15 it read. From up stairs she could her quiet chatter from the shared kitchen. Moving quickly, she grabbed a baggy hoodie and clambered down stairs.

In the kitchen Chris sat at the table, flicking through the paper and drinking something out of a mug; most likely tea. Sensing that someone was watching him, Chris looked up. Their eyes met and Annika could see the small twinkle in his eyes. Green is my new favourite colour. A voice in her said. Humming from the corner broke their contact as Mrs. Wickle teetered into the room with a large bowl of scrambled egg. In the corner of her eye she could see Chris still staring at her with his signature smirk in place. Annika felt her cheeks heat up once more under his intense gaze.
     "Oh dearie me, I didnt hear you come down hun. Now what would you like to eat?"
     "Just some fruit and yogurt please?
     "Sit down now hun, I'll get it.
     "Are you sure? I'll -"
     "Nika, sit down." Annika sank into the nearest chair to her which was opposite Chris. "I may be old but I can still walk to the fridge and back." Mrs. Wickle started to mutter as she left to the fridge.
     "Thank you for telling me by the way." Chris began, still smirking.
     "What?"
     "About Mrs. Wickle. We nearly gave each other a heart attack this morning if she didn't recognise me."
     "Oh, sorry. I forgot."
     "I bet you did hun." Mrs. Wickle chimed, walking back towards them with another, smaller bowl. "You also forgot that when you wrap paint brushes in cling film they're normally used the next day not two days afterwards or it ruins the brush."

Annikas eyes widen and she lowers her forehead to the table top, her hair falling about her. "Dammit!"
     "Nika, dont swear at the table."
     "Sorry Mrs. Wickle." She mumbles.
     "Don't worry hun, I brought some more brushes, they're in the porch."

Lovely old Mrs. Wickle. Such a brilliant character and so understanding too; especially at the time of Caras death. Mrs. Wickle was the one to introduced Annika and Cara, having lived next door to her since Chris was in diapers. With Mrs. Wickle being old, she couldn't deal with stairs anymore so she (and her grandsons) converted downstairs into a one floored apartment and then did the same upstairs. And now she is a tenant in her own home with her living downstairs and Annika living upstairs, paying rent every month.

Chris rose from the table, mumbling something about staring the day early while you're up and walked out of the room. Annika stared after him and then turned back to her bowl to find Mrs. Wickle looking smugly back at her.
     "What?"
     "Nothing." And with that she picked up the paper Chris had left behind. Sighing to herself, Annika finished her bowl of yogurt and went back to her room.

Once in her room, she went over to her windowsill and turned on her speakers. Automatically connecting to her phone, music started to pour into the room, drowning the silence. Singing the tune to herself, her picked out a plain pair of black jeans and a dark grey hoodie. She slipped them on and then began rummaging through the bottom of her wardrobe Annika grabbed a pair of grey Converse. Tying them up, she began to sing louder. "Bang, bang. Two shots fired, man down. One fool, one liar. Ring, ring. Trust gone missing." House on fire, house on fire. Clapping from her doorway startled her as she whipped her head around she spotted Chris leaning against the wall.
     "You never said you could sing." He stated, crossing his arms.
     "You never asked." She retorted.
     "Touché." Chriss eyes lingered.
     "Are we going next door?"
Chris merely nodded, moving out of her doorway and trampled down the stairs. "C'mon then." He shouted.

~*~

This time, outside Cara's house stood two police officers: Max and the one they met before. When they arrived within an arms length from officer Max, the man that was later notified to be named Bennett, scowled at Chris whereas Max smiled.
      "Good news Chris! From the information he willingly gave to you and the evidence found Phil was sentenced to fifteen years in prison! With things going as they are we have no need for officers to be in your mother's house any more."
     "Thank you."
     "Don't thank me Chris, it was Annika who called in time for us to catch him." Max smiled as he and Bennett walked to the car and got in.
     "Oh, I will. For as long as shell allow me by her side." He murmured low enough for Annika to hear him. Together Chris and Annika watched the police car pull out of the drive and drive away.
     "C'mon," Annika called, pulling Chris along slightly. "lets check this house."
     "I'm coming, I'm coming." He laughed.
Each room seemed normal to Chris when he entered very door. The only differences were small like the large amount of beer bottles on the kitchen counter and lack of respect the house was in. The only room that time seemed to have stopped in was Chris's bedroom. Chris's room was a small box room: a single bed against the wall opposite the door, a side table next to the bed, an old wooded piano opposing the table and a large set of draws adjoining wardrobe to the right of the table. On each piece of furniture there was a layer of dust settled on top. All apart from the piano Annika thought, she smiled thinking that Cara still managed little acts of defiance now and then.
     "This was your room?" she asked sceptically.
     "Yep."
     "But it's so small."
Chris chuckled to himself before looking back up. "Before Phil moved in I had the second biggest room in the house but when they did Phil said that because his son was in an unfamiliar house he should have more room thus having the bigger room."
Annika gaped at him. "And Cara allowed that?"
     "Anything to help her new son to settle down."
     "Is that why there a distinct lack of furniture in here?"
     "Sort of. Because mum had more mouths to feed I wasnt allowed such embellishments."
     "Let me guess, his son got everything?"
Chris nodded his head. "Depending how bad it was, I used to hide in my wardrobe. If Phil couldn't find me, he couldn't shout at me."
     "Did you ever find Narnia while you was at it?" Annika smiled cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.
     "Unfortunately, no." He smirked.
     "Was it ever -"
A crash from downstairs paused what ever Annika was going to say in her mouth. Both of them looked to the door and silently stood up, Chris was grasping a metal baseball bat in his hand.
     "Stay behind me." He ordered and Annika mutely nodded.

Creeping down the stairs, Chris suddenly stop in his tracks when he saw a slim figure with black hair in the living room and he dropped the bat with a hard thud. The figure whipped around until his eyes landed on Chris. The boy stood straighter, shoved his hands into his pockets and smirked.
     "Hello brother dear."