Nyx Dawson.

1875 Words
Every day since we moved there, I'd go for a walk up the street and back again. only there was something that always compelled me to keep walking down the dirt road that wandered off the edge of the street. down there was an enormous Victorian mansion. immaculately kept. No moss grew on, not one roof tile. No painting was flaking away from the weatherboard. No windows were cracked or smashed. The lawn was lush and seemed as if it never grew. the fountain was always on and sparkling clean. The apple trees surrounding the property were so big that they must've been hundreds of years old. But yet in the three months we'd been in that town, I'd not seen even one person on the property. another restless night came for me one Friday, and I decided to go for a walk. I pulled on my Nike hoodie and some track pants before slipping my feet into my worn converse that were beginning to get holes, that were that old. opening my window as silently as I could, I jumped from the window onto the lawn. our patchy and barely green lawn that paled in comparison to our neighbours. I trudged across the grass and began walking towards the mansion. As I got closer to the property, I noticed movement from above. my eyes flickered with fear as they searched for a threat among the branches of the old apple trees that guarded the mansion. There, sitting in an apple tree at the top most branch was the boy with ash hair. He had no shirt on or shoes, just a pair of plaid pyjama pants. He was perched on his tiptoes crouched with his hand held out. Squinting, I realised he was patting a huge barn owl. Its humongous eyes glared at me with an unsettling intensity. Turning my attention back to the boy, I nearly screamed when I realised he was then looking at me, too. without a second thought, my feet began sprinting towards home. No sooner than I had taken only three strides I was halted. "Why do you watch my house?" a silvery voice growled. The boy was no boy. He was more than six feet tall, towering above me. "I uhhh, I'm curious." I said nervously as i looked down at my black and used-to-be white shoes. Even though we were outside, it was getting harder to breathe as his cat-like eyes stared into my soul. "Obsessed would be the word you are looking for," His deep, guff but soft voice carried through the air to my ears like a silk ribbon. "Well..." I shrugged and tried to think of how the hell I could get out of this awkward situation. "I... need to get home," I cringed at my terrible excuse. "No, you do not. Otherwise, you would not be here in the first place." He said, standing in the warm summer night. It was at that moment that i noticed how pale his skin was. His whole body was so white it was almost see-through. His shirtlessness showed off his hard toned chest and stomach. wasn't that weird? That he had no shirt or shoes on, and how did he get here so fast. I looked from him and then back at the tree where he was. that tree was a good fifty metres from here. There's no way he had time to climb down that tree and sprint across the lawn in the few seconds it took me to run three paces. It's just not humanly possible. "Why are you staring at me?" He asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at me. "Because you're being rude," I retorted unconsciously before biting my lip with regret. Why do I always do this? "You are the rude one! stalking my house and staring at me like an animal in a cage." He growled with anger. "Okay, sorry, I was admiring your house. let's start over. Hi, I'm Nyx Dawson," I held out my hand to shake his, but he looked at my hand like it was harbouring a deadly disease. "Dominic Luca Orlando," He said with a raised eyebrow. Although half his hair nearly covered his face, it was so overgrown. "Nice to meet you," I smiled at our forced friendliness. It was such a ridiculous situation. He must have sensed this because all of a sudden, he'd changed his mind. "Until next time," was all he said as he stepped around me and began walking back to his front door. Partly in shock at the whole bizarre encounter, I ran back home and climbed through my bedroom window, cringing at the loud rattle of the window panel. I hoped dad didn't hear. "Morning sleepy head," I heard as I walked into the kitchen. Dad turned to look at me from where he was standing. "I'm working late tonight," he grumbled as he slurped his coffee. God, I hated it when people do that. "So, takeout?" I assumed as usual, and he nodded before pulling his wallet from his jean pockets and passing me a fifty. "Be good, don't burn the house down." He picked up his truck keys and pointed a warning finger in my direction as he left the house. Great, another day with nothing to do. And no one to really hang out with. opening the fridge, I scanned the bare shelves; ketchup, Mayo, week old pizza, half a six pack, and two cartons of milk. great, he still hasn't done the shopping. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my phone and shot him a text asking for more money so I could buy us some real food. He just sent a thumb up, and then a bank notification popped up on my notifications. $500 - don't waste it. cool. after an hour, I'd finished my online grocery shop and had already begun rewatching, wrecking it Ralf for the billionth time. Just nearing the scene where the candy king was going bonkers, the groceries finally arrived. you have no idea how many times i peeked through the curtains as I heard I car drive by thinking it was my food. food was my element, and I was great at it. instantly, I unpacked all the colourful vegetables and fruits along with all the pantry staples. within the hour, I'd managed to have a whole roast sides and all ready to be shoved into the oven and forgotten about for two and a half hours. By five thirty, the roast was finished and ready to eat. I served up two plates and waited for Dad to walk through the door. by six I gave up and rang him. "Where are you?" I asked as I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. "I'm hung up at work," I could hear yells in the background and the beeping of a reversing truck, "I won't be home until late, maybe nine." he paused and sighed before speaking again, "is that okay?" I nodded and looked across the room at the two dinner plates. "Yeah, all good, I'll leave dinner in the microwave for you." "Love you," "Love you too." I tried to sound cheery as I hung up, but tears threatened to fall. Why? it's not like I wasn't used to it. It was pretty much always like this. I didn't really feel like eating after that, so I decided to go for a walk. once again, i found myself standing outside the mansion. As I stood at the edge of the road, I imagined my life if I were the owner of the house. I would live there with my husband who would work a high paying corporate job, like a CEO or something. We'd have two dogs and three kids. I'd spend all day shopping and playing with the kids and in the afternoon I'd cook us homemade meals of whatever my husband would want. But it was just a day dream. I knew in my heart that I'd never find a man like that, that really loved me. I was doomed, stuck looking after Dad for the rest of my life. "I thought I told you not to come here," that silvery voice came from behind me. there he was again just standing there his skin so pale it was as if the sun shone through it. I wanted ao badly to reach out and touch it. "Hello, Dominic, I was just walking again." I looked around where I stood on the dirt road. "Why are you so obsessed with my house?" Dominic asked, standing strangely still. "I don't know," I shrugged and looked through the fence once again, "It's just so beautiful." I sighed and glanced back at him, a little embarrassed. to my surprise, he seemed thoughtful. "What?" "Maybe I could show you around." He offered. I felt such a deep need to explore the house and get to know this strange young man. A small voice inside my head was screaming, no! it said, this is what serial killers do! you know how this'll end! but the irrational side of me won, and my feet began to follow behind dominics' light steps. As I stepped into his grand house i looked around. There was no sign of life or love. No smell of freshly baked food. Not a single muddy footprint to be seen. Just solitary loneliness. "Does no one else live with you?" The question escaped my lips, and I turned to see his stone like face. "No, I inherited it from my grandparents." He shrugged and pointed down a hall. "Down there is a library, indoor pool, and the formal dining room." I followed behind him as he led me down the hall. The soft Persian rugs like a path. "All of the top and third floor are just bedrooms." He waved his hand upwards before we stopped at the ornate wooden door. like the ceiling, the door was also ridiculously tall. "I have all the classics and many other collections, Shakespeare and the likes." I peeped my head in and looked around the room. large sturdy shelves lined the walls filled with thousands of hardback covers. not a single partical of dust to be seen. "You read much?" I asked. "Not really, I've red everything good." He shrugged. "So, what do you do?" we strolled down the hallway. "I spend most of my time bird watching," he shrugged. "Why do you like birds?" I wondered. "They're free," He replied simply. "Do you not feel free?" I pried. "You ask a lot of questions," He glanced at me with those wide calculating eyes. His pale skin like porcelain. "I'm curious." I crossed my arms. "You say that like its a good thing," He raised his dark brows at me. "Why wouldn't it be?" He leant down very close to me until our eyes were level. "Because you'll ask questions you don't want to know the answer to." His voice was soft as a cloud but it shook me like thunder. "I uh, I think I better get going." I explained as I back away, "I'll let myself out!" I yelled as I almost ran down the hallway.
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