The Speed of Sound

Thrice We Knock

        You wake up in a cold sweat, panting heavily and head whipping around wildly. The bedcovers are thrown off your body to the wood floor as you leap from bed to slam open the door. You race around your house in a panic, not able to think too clearly due to the abrupt trauma of the nightmare you just had. Curling in the corner of the living room, you squeeze your eyes shut and clench your fists together, listening to the erratic beat of your own heart. Minutes pass by with deep, slow breaths. Eventually, you are able to calm down. With a sad sigh, you carefully rise to your feet and wander over to the couch, slouching into it. 

        You wish that you had someone to tell about your dreams. You just hate how they usually start peacefully and then end up terrible nightmares. Mama and Papa were usually there for me whenever I had a bad dream, you sniffle. Small droplets begin to form within your tear ducts. You miss your parents. Gritting your teeth together, you tell yourself to be strong, and the tears dry up.

        Needing some fresh air, you travel around the house opening every single window. You prop the front and back doors open as well. After taking in the cool morning breeze, the beast in your belly begins to demand food. You stroll into the kitchen and take out a baking guide from a nearby shelf. Flipping the pages you stop at a picture of pancakes, scan the recipe, and then start searching for the ingredients. The items are gathered in a hurry due to your growling stomach. You accidentally spill some flour in the process. I'll clean it later, you decide, measuring everything into a large mixing bowl.

        While cooking you notice some very low, far off voices coming from outside. Switching the pancake maker off, you stand still with your (y/a) ears perked, making sure that you had heard the voices in the first place. Ears twitching to the front of the house, you believe that there are multiple creatures roaming along the shoreline. I better close the doors. You don't want anybody to think that they can freely wander into your home. First, you close and lock the back door, which is right nearby the kitchen anyway, then you plan on sneaking to the front without being seen. 

        Tiptoeing across the house, you arrive to the front door and barely peek around the frame. There are three Mobians strolling along the beach, gradually growing closer to the house. From your hidden spot, you can see someone purple walking side-by-side with a hovering black and yellow creature. Lumbering in front of them is a tall, bulky, green creature. You can't see them too well from the house, but from their tones of voice, they all seem to be male.

        (E/c) eyes unblinking, you silently shut the front door and twist its lock. With a breath held you return to the back door and do the same there as well. A rumble from down below reminds you of the unbaked pancake mix. Cautiously you slip into the kitchen with one ear cocked to the side, listening closely to the open windows in the living room. Before you can even switch the pancake maker back on, a deep voice speaks, disturbingly close.

        "Seems that someone chose their housing location wisely."

        You freeze, knowing that the three males are right outside the front of the house. Crunching footsteps head to the door. The high-pitch tone of a little boy begins to scream out incoherent words, and you hear a palm being slapped against the wall of the house.

"Shut up will ya, Charmy?" a raucous voice scolds. "The polite thing to do is knock." A loud banging on the front door causes you to jump up, (y/c) fur fluffed up in surprise. "Yo! Anybody in there?" You don't answer the door. Instead, you crouch down in the kitchen, wishing for these Mobians to leave.

        The deep voice from before warily says, "You're no better than Charmy. Why don't you let me handle this, Vector? The owner of this house could possibly be busy in the back." A single pair of footsteps leaves the front door and heads around to the back of the house. You can tell exactly where this man is going due to all of the windows being wide open. Hopefully, these people won't climb inside. You brace yourself for the knock on the back door, which evidently does arrive. It still causes you to flinch. "Greetings to the owner of this household! My colleagues and I would like to ask a few questions." He pauses, waiting for any sign of movement. Chaos, just leave! you beg. Why must they be so persistent?

        "I think this house is empty, Espio!" the loud voice yells from the front door. "Oh well, let's keep going, fellas."

        You hear the Mobian from near the back door race around the house to meet up with his "colleagues." The three of them then meander away, returning to their lovely beachside walk. A sigh of relief escapes you. Quietly you dash to the living room window to view your visitors. A purple chameleon, a black and yellow bee, and a green crocodile. You stare at them with a frown as they leave. 

       Privacy. Have you heard of privacy...?