All the Best People Are | ✓

•11•

Alice:
How do you know I'm mad?
The Cheshire Cat:
You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here.
• • •
Listen to Lost Boy by Ruth B. for this chapter.
• • •

The house. I should've known it'd be the house he'd take me to. After all, it was the place where everything began. And the place where all good times ended.

It was a pretty little place, what with its grey slanted roof, white painted walls and the large bay windows in every room overlooking the large yard out front. There were white picket fences on all sides, separating it from the other houses.

I glanced over at Leo and he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No one moved in here after you left," he said quietly. I sighed and made my way to the front yard. Walking over the grass I used to play in so long ago, all the memories came back to me like freezing cold water splashed on my face to wake me up from a deep slumber.

• • •

"Honey, can you pass me that paintbrush?" Dad asked from atop the ladder. Mom walked up to him and handed him the paintbrush, then returned back to her spot on the other side of the room.

It was a bright summer afternoon and Mom, Dad and I wanted to give our old house a little makeover. We couldn't afford fancy wallpaper or a professional painter at the time, what with Dad starting his new job only the following month, so we decided the best thing to do was have some fun out of it. We were painting the walls ourselves.

It wasn't much- just a touch up of the beige to cover up all the doodles I'd made with my crayons a few years prior to that. A normal three-year-old would've stuck to just a few little drawings here and there, maybe a splotch of colour or two. But me? No, with my wild imagination, it took a lot more than just a tub of paint to clear my masterpieces up.

"Be careful up there. You never know when the old thing's gonna tip over!" Mom exclaimed with a chuckle, referring to the rusty ladder Dad was standing on. I gave them a wide, toothy grin and proudly announced,"When I grow up, I want to do this all the time. I'm going to be an artist."

Mom gave me a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. Dad, clearly feeling left out, clambered down the ladder to join us, slinging an arm around me and Mom.

We all stayed there like that, warm in the embrace until Dad finally broke the silence.

"Skott, if you want to be an artist, then you will be an artist." Mom swooped in and gave him a little kiss before crouching on her knees to reach my level. "You're going to make the world proud one day, baby girl. You're going to make us so, so proud," she said, looking me straight in the eye with nothing short of admiration. I nodded my head excitedly back at her and both my parents smiled down at me as if I was some kind of wonder they would never be able to figure out.

My mom was a feminist. She believed that one day I could make a change in our society and rise the power of the girl child. In fact, that's why she chose the name Skott for me.

At first I hated it because all the kids at school told me it was a boy's name. Whenever I cried about it to my mother she just gave me a peck on the cheek and repeated the same phrase every time. "If a boy can be named Skott, so can a girl. There's no gender for a name." That's something I learnt to respect about my mom.

Dad, on the other hand, was a staunch believer of.... well, anything Mom believed in. If Mom said something, Dad never argued. If Mom wanted something, he made sure he got it on time. He was great to her. To both of us. He always looked after us. But as the years went by, I posed a different challenge on my family. Mom didn't leave my side. At least, for a while. But Dad couldn't handle it. So he left, taking Mom's future, happiness and heart with him.

Back then, it was always just the three of us. Dad said that Mom and I were his favourite girls in the world. That didn't last long, though. When I was a kid, everything seemed so perfect. So perfect I found it hard to believe it was real.

"Come on, Princess. I'm going to let you paint some of the higher places too,"Dad said, hoisting me onto his shoulders. My little blonde ponytails danced playfully on either side of my head as I swerved this way and that, trying to paint every last empty space with my brush.

"Mommy, look!" Squealed five-year-old me. I pointed excitedly at the place I'd just painted. "Now I can reach higher than Daddy!" Dad chuckled and let out a grunt as he bent to let me down. Then he ruffled the top of my head and went back to painting.

I was just about to pick up the brush once more with my chubby little fingers, when I heard a voice coming from the garden. "Dearie, are you in the mood for a tea party?"

I gasped. "Gran's gonna play tea party with me! I'm going to be the Mad Hatter this time. She can be Alice."

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was my favourite book of all time. I found myself relating to Alice every time someone didn't believe in my stories or told me I had too big an imagination. And, I was every bit as mad as the Hatter. When I asked Gran if there was something wrong with me, she told me it was alright to be a little crazy. After all, all the best people are.

"Honey, who's calling?" Mom asked, concern edging her tone.

"Gran!" I answered brightly, and turned to go outside. But it was almost impossible to miss the horrified look my parents shared at what I'd said.

• • •

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, trying to keep the shrillness from my tone. I tried to calm myself down, but I was suddenly growing wear after the flashback. Leo looked sullenly at the ground, then towards me.

"This was your first home, Skott. It's filled with love. I can't imagine how many beautiful memories you made here," he said softly.

I stared at the house, pretending to think, but really I was trying my hardest not to. All I wanted to do was forget everything. Walk away and never come back.

No, I thought. No love at all. This place had been drained of all its color after we left. Too many memories, too many tears shed. Nothing I ever did would let me forget them.

I knew that wasn't the worst of it. It was just the beginning. This house held love once, but love was meant to be forever. This forever died a long time ago, along with my sanity, my family and half of my heart.

And I knew I could never get those back.

• • •
A/N Do you believe in love?
Do you blame Skott for being so pessimistic?
What are your thoughts on Leo?
I'd love to know what you all think.
Hope you liked the update!

~Via