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Amelia Hart

Noel Langmore

The story so far...

Small town, lots of strangeness, two friends, lazy description, will make better

The cardboard box nearly slips right through my arms as my father pushes it into my chest. He stares at me through the fogged-up lenses of his glasses before letting out a long sigh, a thick white vapor coming out with it. That single sigh said it all: wipe that unimpressed look off your face, Noel. But what was there to be impressed about? A single father having a midlife crisis and dragging his three sons into the middle of nowhere? Call me unsatisfied. I looked around our new home. A thick blanket of snow covered the sidewalks and streets. It was fairly early in the morning, so I suppose no one had the time to shovel this awfulness. There were only a few other homes in this little nook of suburbia, four including ours. I glance at the house my dad picked out. This would be my first time actually seeing it. I personally would have picked something less.. neon. Bright red paint coated the outside of the home, sorely sticking out with the snowfall around it. It was fairly large, two floors from the look of it. I watched as my younger brother, Adonis, attempted to squeeze his large suitcase through the frame of the front door, giving one big push before slipping on the slick wooden panels of our porch. A chuckle began to escape past the confines of my pouty face, before I remembered I was supposed to be upset about all this. I shot a look at my dad, but he was already equipped with a victorious smirk. Damn him.

“It’s not gonna be so bad, okay? As long as we got each other” His voice sounded like it started at his nose but ended up coming out of his mouth. He placed another box atop the one already between my arms, before putting his hand on my head and shaking up my red locks. “I know it looks a little dreary down here, but I promise it’s a cool place when you get to know everyone.” My dad was the type of guy to do a lot of research before making any kind of decision. The man took three weeks to decide which microwave we should buy for the guest house. So, it was very out of character when he started asking how we would feel about moving, and a few days later we were on the road.

“Dad, this looks like the sort of town to have candle light vigils when no one died.” My older brother, Troy, climbs out the car, a cigarette hanging off his lip. I’ve always suspected that he only smoked to look cool. “No, it looks like the type of town to play American Psycho every Sunday at the drive-in” He pipes up, cig bouncing up and down as he spoke. “No, it looks like the kind of town to go to church every other day.” I added, a smile stretching across my face. “Nah It’s more like this town is built on another town that killed the town before them.” I laugh louder than I expected, nearly dropping the boxes in my arms. I catch myself before the contents spill out onto the snow. My dad shakes his head before joining my Adonis on the porch, helping him push his suitcase the rest of the way through. Troy raises his eyebrows and shrugs, before following up I watch from behind for a moment, wondering how this family of big city redheads would do in such a foreign environment.

Once I inside, I immediately went up the stairs to where I assumed the rooms would be. I peek over the stack of boxes in my arms and into a deserted room with one window. Before I can even lift my leg to walk in, Adonis slips by, placing an electric keyboard in the corner of the room. “Claimed. My stuff is in here.” I opened my mouth to contest his claim. “Get out.” The door closes in my face before I can get my argument across. Okay, I pivot my feet and walk a bit down the hallway to another room. This one is a bigger, to my surprise, with a large bay window looking down onto the street.

A few hours later and my room was laid out just like it was back home. Well, his last home. This would take some time to adjust to. Several movie posters now lined the wall. Some would say I had an unhealthy obsession with classic sci-fi flicks. I would say, **** you Starship Troopers is a national treasure. I looked at my handy work, a nice and neat utopia of all things Noel. I left the area in front of the bay window clear, unsure if I wanted to sully the view. Off beyond the pale blue walls of my room, I could hear the faint sounds of a piano singing a lullaby. Slightly overpowering the melodic sounds Adonis’ piano were the sounds of something thick slapping against a wall. My door was open and across the hall I could see through into Troy’s room. He was shirtless, revealing a slew of tattoos all over his chest and arms. He was pretty toned, and it was strange for me to find him sneaking a girl home at night while I sluggishly wandered to get water. Troy was sitting on the floor, unaware that I was watching him. Headphones covered his ears, a wire running down into his pocket. In his hand was a paintbrush, beside him a bucket of red. His ingenious strategy was to dip and whip. Paint would fly from his brush as he whipped his arm forward. I couldn’t see the wall, but I would bet all my money and Adonis’ virginity that it looked like someone went Leatherface on some sucker in his room. Even still, Troy had this proud look on his face, like he just realized he could shit gold. I waved my hand up, and the door closed shut. I smiled to myself, making the rubix cube on my desk start to ascend in midair. My subtle finger tip twitches urged the cube to turn, the colors eventually all matching on every side. It floats over my bed, hovering for a moment before falling into my pillows, and so did I shortly after. The comforts of my mattress lulled me almost as soon as my head reached my pillows. I thought for moment, about all the friends I left behind, and perhaps the new ones I’d meet in this new town. The thought passes right before sleep takes over.

The familiar sound of the snow plow roaring to life tore me out of my dreams. I blinked the haze away, quickly forgetting the strange phantoms that dizzied me in my sleep. With a glance at the old style clock on my nightstand I could see it was only 7 a.m., which meant that I had only slept for a handful of hours. Fitful hours at that. I rolled over, entangling myself in my blanket and grabbing the pillow to my face. I pressed it hard with both hands, enough to cut off the flow of air from the outside. Each breath of air came out hot and thick, threatening to smother me soon enough if I didn’t stop. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to recall what I was dreaming about.

Was it the clocks again? I could hear that ticking even now while I was wide awake. No, it was something far more insidious than something as impartial as time. I just couldn’t make any sense of it.

I groaned from under the pillow and loosened my grip to suck in a fresh gulp of air. 7 a.m. and Dad was already at it. Summoning the courage to face the day I rolled back across my bed and pulled my blankets with me, wrapping myself up like I was wearing a shawl. Three quick steps on the cold wood of my floor and I was safely perched at my computer desk. Multiple incessant taps of the mouse buttons brought it to life with the quiet hum of the fans filling my room. I grabbed my headphones off of the desk and briefly struggled with the wire.

“Ugh, why do I do this to myself. Maybe one day you’ll have your shit together.” I say to myself, my voice nearly muffled by the snow blower.

A few taps and the sweet, sweet sounds of Borns came oozing out of my headphones. He sang about emotions as I clicked open my social media and pictures of a moving truck flooded my screen. A new family in town? I squinted at the picture trying to make out the blurred visages captured from a moving car but couldn’t really make anything out, just the white and orange of the truck and a red house.

A red house I had totally seen before. I sat up and leaned to the left to peer out around my monitor. Yep, definitely the same house. I could see the U-haul from here with its random fact about some state emblazoned on the side. That house had been empty since I moved to town myself, and in a place with a population of practically two hundred any new additions were guaranteed to make front page news. It was just down the street from me, about three houses down.

“Ames, didya see the newcomers? Why don’t you go and say hi? Make some friends?” I flinched in my seat, not having realized he had opened my room door. My headphones had drowned out the sound of the snowblower, he must have finished up without me noticing.

“I mean I would except this isn’t some sort of sitcom where all the neighbors pop out with pies and cookies to greet the fresh new faces.” I spoke while removing one side of the headphones from an ear. It wasn’t exactly true though. Mrs. Harris had come with an entire basket of freshly baked goods on our first day here but I wasn’t going to remind him and lose this argument.

“Besides, I have friends.” Real solid defense, I kept the sheepishness out of my voice as best I could.

Dad made a noise like a half choke, half laugh, half donkey bray and clapped his hand against my door frame. “I mean real life friends, Amelia. Not a bunch of anonymous weirdos. Actual people who will get you to go outside and disconnect from all of...that.” He was waving a hand at my admittedly slightly extra computer set up.

“C’mon, I like my ‘fake friends’. They’ve been more real to me than most. Especially after-” I cut myself off with a click of my mouth, looking down at the floor.

A beat of awkward silence and my dad tried to clear the air. “Fake or not, you need some sunshine. You’re so pale you’re almost translucent. Go, spend the day outside. Take some pictures or something.” He smiled gently at me, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. I gave him the same look back, a smile that didn’t exactly reach the eyes.

I looked back at my camera, an expensive piece of equipment bequeathed to my from my mother before she- Well before she died. I don’t know how long I stared at it before the guilt seeped in and I caved. It had been awhile anyway.

Leggings, boots, shirt, jacket, scarf, and most importantly a hat because I was too lazy to properly comb my hair and I was ready. The camera was packed in to its carrier and slung over my shoulder. Wallet, phone, keys; the holy trinity check before leaving my room. I double timed it down the stairs and almost bit it on the second to last, catching myself on the rail. A ball-shaped elephant squishy toy had been hiding just against the stair and was almost the unknowing assassin of me.

“Maggie, you gotta clean up after yourself.” I scolded my baby sister who wasn't anywhere to be seen. Before She noticed I went ahead and collected the random assortment of toys left behind.

A quick pass through the kitchen for a banana to take with me and I was out the door. The old wood clattered sharply against the frame and I bounded down the steps. The snow crunched under my boots as I made the way down the street. My father took up plowing for Mrs. Harris as well, she was an older woman alone now that her husband passed away.

Time for the camera. First snow fall like this makes for a scenic view and I needed to rev up. I don't like capturing random landscape shots, or still lifes. Something has to speak to me. I started with the white snow against that really bright red. It looked like it had a story to tell. A beautiful thing hiding under a cover, something to be discovered. Before really thinking about it I pointed my camera, and clicked the button.

Flash. Oh god, why didn't I turn that off? I didn't have the sense to run, I'll probably come off as a massive creep if they see me.