Mistletoe And Wine

The Boy Next Door

Stella

Marge had me helping the second eldest (I was the eldest now) in the kitchen. It was explained to me that all the children had chores and we would have them done in a timely matter or else. I wasn't sure what "or else" was, but I didn't want to find out; and anyway I did chores back home, so it didn't bother me. So I was put to work in the kitchen and Will helped the five year old Griffon wipe the table down, though mostly Will just played with his rag. We made sure that nothing was on his rag just in case he decided to chew on it when he wasn't being watched.

The girl I was helping was named Lindy, and she had recently turned 13. Her black hair was kind of mousy and her green eyes were kind of large, but maybe that was her large circular wire frame glasses. We were busy doing the dishes from tonight's meal.

Paul and his twin sister Emma were busy vacuuming and dusting the living room. So that was the lot of us. Marge took care of all these children all by herself. She had a boyfriend, but she said we were never to talk to him if he came around. I was completely fine with that as I had no interest in other people's men, but Lindy made sure to giggle when she brought him up in conversation, saying he was "very cute", dragging out the R for longer than she needed to.

When it was time for bed, we were all very quiet so not to disturb Marge who was praying in her room. I was sharing a room with Lindy and Emma, Will roomed with Griffon, and Paul and Emma shared a room, though Marge mentioned new room assignments because those two were getting too old to sleep in the same room, as per social services.

The room was quite large and there was a mattress on the ground waiting for me already. It was made up with a comforter with flowers printed on it and white sheets. It was a bit too girly for me, but who was I to complain? I changed into my Halloween purple Frankenstein pajamas and crawled into bed. Lindy said a prayer before she turned out the light and got into her own bed on the other side of the room.

******

I had a terrible dream. I was back home and the Christmas tree had been knocked over, ornament glass was scattered on the floor. Blood ran on the stained wooden floors, and I was laying on my side in it. My mother was laying a foot away, her white Christmas sweater stained red with her own blood. Her hand was stretched out towards me and I reached for her.

Her hand was cold, and she had no grip. My mother had been dead for quite a while. Suddenly, hands grabbed my shoulders and turned me onto my back. I screamed at the deranged face of my father, and woke up in the middle of that scream.

The light turned on just as I sat up, and Marge stood in the doorway looking sleepy and irritated. Lindy was also sitting up in bed, staring at me with scared eyes. I spotted Paul and Emma standing behind Marge looking at me in puzzlement.

"What is the meaning of this screaming," Marge asks hotly.

"I'm sorry," I whisper throatily.

"Speak up!"

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I had a nightmare."

Her face softened just a pinch, but then it was gone in a flash. Her mouth formed a thin line and she stayed bitter. "Fine then, the next time you decide to wake the entire house up, don't. All of you, off to bed at once!"

Paul and Emma hurried back to their rooms and I heard their doors slam. Marge gave me one last withering look before she turned off the light and shut the door firmly. Lindy shifted back into her sheets, and I did the same, letting out a long sigh.

As expected, I tossed and turned the rest of the morning. When the dun finally rose it bathed the room in warm orange light through the window. I climbed out of bed and stood to look outside. The frozen ground was revealed between big snow banks shoveled to the sides of the yard and they seemed to have a much nicer yard than Marge's. Snow was leaning heavily on the house here and shoveled out of the way similar to the neighbors.