Haunting Dorian

09 - Stubborn Ass Building Walls

Claude Wells and Paula Frauman-Wells had a son about the age of Dorian but anyone could see they were nothing alike. Karl Wells' steps were confident and oddly purposeful as he walked around the house while Dorian glowered at him from afar. Karl was the person his entire family always compared him to. Why can't you be as active as Karl? Instead you're cooped up in your room day and night. Why don't you have any friends? Karl has a ton.

Dorian tried to hide himself up in his bedroom but no one would allow him to. "You're going upstairs? Oh, good! Show Karl your room, he looks a bit bored," aunt Paula insisted with an overly excited shrill voice. Without another word from either boys, Karl followed Dorian up to his bedroom where Melinda lounged.

She rocked her legs in the air, laying on her stomach in the middle of the room. There was a book wide open in front of her and every once in a while a page rose and she continued onto the next one. When the door opened, she expected Dorian to come alone. But before she realized that the heavy stomp in the entrant's footsteps was not Dorian's usual MO, Karl's right foot sank through Melinda's waist. She squealed in horror and her face twisted from the unexpected pain that it brought her. She rolled to the closest wall immediately, her chest heaving and angry eyes staring at the broad back of the stranger.

Dorian stood by the door, looking angry as well though he couldn't exactly stand up for Melinda. As far as Karl was concerned, she only existed a good few decades ago.

"Who the hell is this?" Melinda spat through gritted teeth and stood up by the wall.

Dorian closed the door to the room and crossed his arms over his chest, managing a polite smile on his face. But seeing Karl in the confines of his bedroom made him uncomfortable. Actually, anyone besides Melinda coming to his room seemed like an unwanted intrusion. Perhaps that was how Melinda had felt when Dorian first moved into her house. "Karl, cousin, how have you been?"

Melinda scoffed and glared daggers at Karl's unsuspecting back.

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old," Karl absentmindedly muttered and traced the frame of one of the paintings on Dorian's wall. "You're still painting I see. I don't remember this piece."

"I haven't for a while."

"Why not? It might be the only thing you're good at." Karl withdrew his hand and gave Dorian a spiteful look. "Though I suggest you stay away from drugs from now on, you actually need to know what you're doing if you don't want to be killed."

"You know?"

"Of course, I know! My mother told me as soon as uncle called her."

Dorian sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked at the wall across from his bed where Melinda was silently observing the dispute of two cousins. While he wouldn't spare another glance at Karl, Melinda seemed to be sparing quite a few as he strolled around the room and kept touching Dorian's things.

"This room is so small," Karl huffed, dropping his arms to his sides. "But I bet the girls simply adore all these dragon statues and paintings." His last comment was sardonic, that much was obvious but Dorian still wouldn't look at him. Unexpectedly, Karl laughed at Dorian's lack of response.

"Did I hurt your feelings?"

"What feelings?" Dorian scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest again.

"Don't worry, we're staying only until Wednesday."

"You're staying?"

"Oh, yes. Didn't they tell you? I'm supposed to be staying in your room." Dorian glared at him as he walked around the bed towards the door. "I hope you're a better host then than you have been so far. Would hate to tell uncle Erick that you're being rude to family." Karl strolled out of the room, carrying the same confidence he always did. He acted already like the man of the house and it only made Dorian angry.