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The House in The Woods

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HIGH SCHOOL is a set of memories we only live through once, not twice. If you ever do, though the chances of that happening are zero—unless you're like me—then you should prepare for the absolute worst.

Call me pessimistic, I say realistic.

"Some things never change," I muttered to myself as the cabin came into sight.

Tall trees surrounded the back of the house, scattering the sun into irregular rays that shone down onto the cleared space in front of the house.

It was the same on the outside and I could bet it would be on the inside, too. Being back here made it feel like time hadn't flown by. My eyes fell on the spot we headed to.

In the two times we'd visited, Dad always parked the car in the same spot.

The first time I had held my mother's hand; the second time, I missed her hand. One could almost say mourning.

The brown leaf-covered roof and wooden exterior made me feel like the little girl I was mourning her mother's absence. It's been seven years and I still can't get over that and maybe I never will.

Seven years since my mom got drunk and drove out in rage on her birthday, making that the last time I had seen her, even though she was still alive.

The car reared to a stop, and I got out just as soon as Dad killed the engine, not waiting to hear what she was going to say. There was nothing more she could have wanted to say other than to state the fact that we had arrived.

Jane was what I called her even though I couldn't count how many times my dad had demanded I call her 'mom'. I never tried to because before I ever thought to do so, another fact would supersede it.

She replaced my mom.

I headed to the trunk and took out my luggage before deciding to help Tony get his. But he got to me and yanked it from my grip.

"I'm a man. I got this."

I scoffed. Man! He'd always be a little boy in my eyes.

"You're welcome."

"Yeah, whatever, thanks."

With a sly smirk, I went closer to him to ruffle his blond hair a few tones darker than mine, but he wriggled out of my feeble grip. Guess he was getting stronger.

"What's up with you?" I asked as we headed towards the house.

His reply came out gruff, "I should ask you?"

"I didn't do anything. Why are you grumpy?" When he didn't reply, I went on. "Or is it because of Susan?"

I emphasized the name of the person I hadn't stopped pestering him about her ever since I heard him talking about her some days after my graduation.

"Just quit it," he said. I couldn't help but chuckle.

We may have strayed apart over the years, but I couldn't deny the satisfaction I got from ruffling his feathers. It made me remember the times we were closer to each other before things went south.

When did it all start, you would ask? I guess, not long after I turned eleven when my parents started arguing. Our quaint house in Chippewa County, Minnesota, transformed overnight.

Instead of the scent of chocolate pancakes caressing our noses, till we woke, loud voices and crashing plates jolted us to the new reality.

Even when it was silent, it was only the calm before the storm and it never lasted as much as I, or Tony, would have liked.

As we approached the house, the door opened with a creak and a gray-haired, short woman who was my grandma came into view.

"Oh, look how Anthony has grown. My boy!" she gushed and, like all grandmothers, pulled him into an albeit bone-crushing hug, making him drop the luggage onto the front porch.

"It's Tony now," he mumbled into her neck, but she paid no mind to what he said.

Grandma didn't stop cooing at him like a child as they hugged and when she stopped, she moved on to complain about how lean he was.

With him muttering away, he headed inside when she finished and she turned towards me.

"Clarissa."

Normally, I would cringe whenever anyone called me by my full name, even my dad. But when it came from grandma, I couldn't.

Not when the sound brought along a feeling of warmth and welcome. She pulled me into a hug and it wasn't as tightening as it used to be.

"I'm so proud of you. You've grown so much." She pulled away to look at me.

Grandma, Mom, and I all shared the same amber eyes and blonde hair. Though grandma's was much less blonde and more gray. While Tony took Dad's brown eyes with his hair between Mom's blonde and Dad's black.

"So much like your mother," she added, and her eyes seemed to glaze over. She too hadn't gotten over what happened. But as quick as her eyes glazed, they cleared, and she flashed me a smile similar to Mom's.

"Go on in then," she said and her line of sight shifted to look behind me. I saw her eyes light up as she called, "Jane, Bob!"

It always baffled me how she and Jane were peacefully coexisting. If my son-in-law got married to the woman he was cheating on my daughter with, I would never forgive them, let alone allow them in my house.

The thought fell aside as the internal decor replaced it.

As expected, nothing had changed. Two couches set opposite and facing each other, with a small TV set, with long antennas, to the side, in between the couches. It wasn't a surprise that the kitchen was larger than the living room. I would bet it's the largest section of the house.

Asides from the kitchen and living room, there were three rooms. Once, she used to live with Mom, Uncle Mike, Aunt Vera, and Grandpa, until everyone branched off to the city side.

Now my uncle was off in Florida—the last time I had asked. He became less and less present in our lives after he had a huge fallout with my mom and grandma. He didn't even come back for Grandpa's burial.

Yet, I always wondered how she coped here, alone. She didn't have neighbors, and trees reaching high into the sky surrounded the house. Even the houses nearby weren't nearby.

"Tony is home! Tony is home!" I heard.

"Ugh, this piece of s**t. How do you even know my name?" I heard Tony complain and walked over to the dining room and lo-and-behold.

"If it isn't Perry the Parrot."

It's bright blue and green fur, just as I remembered.

"Clarissa is home! Clarissa is home!" Perry said.

Tony groaned and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He was about to head out when I stopped him.

"No swearing Tony. You know what Dad says—"

"And since when did you care what Dad says about anything?" he said and left.

"Someone's in a mood!" I called out to him, but he didn't stop to retort.

I looked at the parrot and saw it staring at me. How did Grandma live alone with this? I would go out of my mind if it kept repeating every sentence I made.

"Quit staring, would you?" I said and turned to leave.

"Clarissa should prepare! Clarissa should prepare!" Perry said, but when I turned, it was already back to pecking at its feet.

I was about to ask, 'For what?', but my grandma called out so I didn't.

"Clarissa dear," she started and reached out to hold my hand. "Look, I know you don't want to spend time here when you should prepare for college."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she shook her head.

She was right. I didn't want to be here, but at the same time, she was my grandma. I couldn't refuse her when she invited all of us.

"But you should look at it differently. Look at it as a time for bonding."

"Bonding?"

"A time to cherish the relationships you have, Clarissa. All of them." My lips fell into a thin line as I realized what she was referring to. Or rather, who?

The day Jane barged into our lives wasn't just one day. But the darkest was when my senses had heightened in anticipation, trying to take in everything I could because deep down I knew it was all about to change, irreversibly.

When Dad arrived with Jane that day, Mom was so mad, she'd broken her favorite chinaware. I remember staring at the shards for a long while as they showed me what my family had become. Because she loved it and always gushed about it, I had grown to love it too.

I remember the jingle of her car keys and how they tinkled against the glass bottle she took along with her. I remember how the roar of the engine pressed on my ears even after she had gone. Dad's heavy steps still remind me of how he had rushed out to talk to her, but she left either way. We didn't hear from her until that evening when my dad got a call from the hospital.

She had caused an accident. The victims, a man, and his only daughter, didn't survive.

Dad never let us visit her in prison or call after that. To him, she was dead, and he kept forcing that sick opinion on Tony and me, no doubt with Jane's support.

At the time of the accident, I just started middle school. I had dreamed of Mom being by my side through it all, of coming back home with tales of friends and boys. But those dreams also crashed in that accident.

"It must have been a long ride, dear." Grandma's words pulled me out of my reverie. "You both go freshen up. Jane and I would do some cooking," she said as Jane strode inside.

"Though, you know me, I've already started."

The warmth in her chuckle tempered the budding rage I only reserved for Jane. Her hands left mine before she moved around the large kitchen.

"Oh!" She clapped. "And you'll be staying in the second room with your brother. Isn't that lovely!"

"Yeah," I said dryly, but I don't think she got the message.

The staircase creaked on my way up, but I ignored it, not wanting to think of how long this cabin had been standing. When I got to the room, the door was open and Tony sat on one bed with his sole focus on his phone.

A smirk made its way to my lips as I snuck in and, before he could notice, seized the phone from his hands. I only caught the words, Would you at least let me explain, before he ripped it from my grip that had loosened as I tried to read.

"Explain what? What did you do?" I asked.

"Would you quit it? Don't act like you care."

"What? Of course, I do," I said, and he scoffed, which caused me to frown.

He then mimicked me. "Yeah, of course, you do," and it was a poor imitation.

"Okay, what is up with you?"

"Clara, just leave me alone. I didn't want to spend the rest of my summer in some cabin in the woods," he said.

"But it's grandma's house."

I didn't want to spend my last month before college in grandma's house either, but now I was here, I wouldn't be bitchy about it. So I had a feeling there was more to his grumpiness.

There was a light in my tone when I spoke next, but he didn't catch on.

"Tony," I started with a wry smile. "If there's something you wanna talk about or something's bothering you, you know you can—"

"What? Talk to you? Yeah right. It's been what, how many years, and now you wanna talk? Is it because you're leaving in some months and probably feel bad for me?"

"What? No, I—"

"Well, in case you didn't know, I'm already used to your absence and indifference so I wouldn't mind if things remained that way, thank you," he said before he left me to the silence of the room and the heaviness of his words.

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That's Chapter 1. How was it? Drop your comments to let me know your thoughts. Thank you for starting this story and I hope you all love it.

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The Sparkling Authoress
Mis. A

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