Butterswap

1

I never particularly liked our house. It was a big house, but it never quite felt like home. The house was always too quiet, too clean and just too cold to ever count as a home.

Flipping through the sheath of papers, I sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth tonight. I closed my eyes, resting for a bit. The professional law terminologies were driving me crazy.

"Come on, Holls. I believe in you. You can do this." I muttered as I pulled myself back up, focusing yet again on the definitions. Suddenly, a bright light flashed across my room and I jumped, peering out of the window.

A shooting star.

I smiled, clasping my hands together. I made a quick wish.

I wish for a miracle to happen, something brilliant, something different. Please.

At that moment, my stomach grumbled. I glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. 3:47 am. Time for a midnight snack. I sat on the side of the bed and slipped my feet into the cotton room slipper. I quietly made my way out of the room. Padding softly down the stairs, I finally reached the kitchen. The squeaky clean and shiny surfaces reflected my face back at me and I cringed at my disheveled hair.

All the maids have gone home, leaving me completely clueless as to where everything was stored.

"Fruit loops, fruit loops, fruit - ah-ha!" I muttered happily as I caught sight of the rainbow-colored box sitting in one of the many cabinets that lined the perimeter of the kitchen.

"Now where's the milk?" I huffed, empty glass in my hand. I opened the refrigerator door but the milk carton was nowhere to be found. Finally, after scrutinizing each layer, I found the white carton behind plastic boxes containing fruits. I rolled my eyes.

I poured myself a full glass and made my way to the large cream-colored couch in the living room when I caught sight of a shadow. I stilled. Heart thumping, I shot a glance at the nearby house phone.

But by then, it was too late. Before I could sprint to the phone, the dark figure stepped into the light and jumped at me.

"What the-" I started to screech before the stranger's hand clamped over my mouth. My bowl of fruit loops and cup of milk drop to the carpeted ground with a muffled plonk.

"Shh!"

"Mffp-mph-mmmh!"

"Okay, good girl." He patted my head lightly before slowly releasing his grip on me.

I scream.

The look of panic set in upon his features as the realization of what I had just done hit him. He let out a disappointed sigh before he moved to make an escape.

Finally, I sprang into action. I had been on the track and field team in high school. That made me faster and more agile than most people I knew. I lunged at him and gritted my teeth when we both crashed down on the carpet.

"Get the fuck off me!" I grunted as he landed on top of me in the most inappropriate manner.

"Stop fucking moving!"

"Get off!"

He swiftly jumped up from the floor but this time, I was too slow. By the time my leg shot out with the intention to trip him, he had already made it over the couch. The boy pulled the large mahogany doors open and leaped down the flight of stairs that led to the entrance of the estate.

At the bottom of the stairs, he paused and turned around. He had the fucking audacity to smile and wink at me before he took off. 

"Thief!" I yelled as my father finally made his grand appearance at the staircase landing.

"Oh, bother! I'll be sure to find you, kid! There are many cameras in the house! You'll be getting a lawyer's letter from me before you know it!" My father shouted at his retreating form.

He had already swung over the tall gates and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" My mother asked, being the more concerned parent.

I nodded my head swiftly.

"Call Larry here and get him to search the house for fingerprints." My father commanded Siri.

"There won't be any, father." I cut in, surprising myself. "He had gloves on."

Father ran his fingers through his hair, frustration clear on his handsome face.

"Were there anything particular about his appearance? Scars, bruises, anything of that sort?" Mum asked, frowning.

"No, his face was free of those. He had a black hoodie and a black surgical mask on so I couldn't see much. His eyes are grey, though. But I doubt that is going to be of much help." I shrugged.

Suddenly, my mum gasped and ran back up the stairs to the room. Father and I followed suit, not missing her distraught cry.

"He took my jewelry box!"

I frowned, I had been awake all night. How could I have missed it? Sure, the house was big. However, my room and theirs were only a hallway apart. I should've been able to hear a creak or even notice a light-

Oh, I had been too preoccupied with the shooting star.

I sighed.

Suddenly, a sharp pain tore my whole being apart. I cried out, sinking to the ground. Clutching my chest, I breathed heavily. The pain slowly subsided. Father lowered me to the floor slowly and I laid there for a bit, unmoving.

"Are you all right now, Holland?" His gruff voice echoed around. I nodded stiffly.

Mum rushed to my side. Her next instructions were a blur, but then I was being carried and let down slowly onto my bed.

"What did I tell you? She's too stressed out! Stop pressurizing her!"

"Am I? I don't think so. If I were really pressurizing her, she would have made a fine lawyer by now. But is she? No, she isn't. Stress pushes a person to meet their full potential."

"I don't even want to start with you on that. She's only eighteen!"

The door to my room closed and the automatic lights dimmed.

A tear leaked from the corner of my eye.

I was trying so hard, so, so hard.