The Secrets We Keep Inside

“Welcome to my humble abode” David said as he opened the door. It had a brass knocker on the front. I walked in slowly looking around the corner. It was beautiful. There was light wood floors until it met a fluffy and almost brand new looking carpet. It was huge and had stairs leading to both a basement and an upstairs.

“Nice place” I said letting my eyes wonder everywhere.

“Yeah, Moms a banker, Dad is the works high up for Dow Jones and such. They aren’t here very often, but it makes for a nice crib” he said with a sigh.

I imagined for a second, me with this life. Mom would walk out the door, a coffee in her hands, give me a kiss on the head, and walk out the door. Dad would travel a lot, then come home and buy me a big present to make up for it. I could be happy, have lots of normal friends, and grow up until my parents sent me off to college, with no worries of money ever again.

“Want me to take that?” David asked, gesturing to my back pack.

“Oh, yeah sure.” I gave him the bag and slipped off my shoes. I walked on to the carpet, soft just as I had imagined.

David scratched the back of his head. “Soo..would you like something to drink or something? We have all sorts of weird juices, beer, I think there is some pop in the garage.” he said.

“I’ll just have a glass of water if I could” I smiled.

“Yeah sure, follow me.” he said leading my around another corner to his kitchen.

The kitchen was just as amazing as the entry. They had granite counter tops and a small table off to the side. Over was a golden chandelier. “Pretty” I said quietly,

“Here you go,“ he said handing me my water. “so would you like a tour of the house? Devin should be here in 15 minutes or so.” he said already turning.

“Umm..yeah sure” I said following him up the stairs.

He led me everywhere. Showing me his parents master bedroom, a famous painting on the wall, their trophy room, which was stacked with trophies from him and his older, bulkier looking version of him, which I assumed to be his older brother, trying to kill time.

He led me to the last part of the upstairs, his bedroom. He opened the door. “My favorite room” he said on the way in.

I stepped in. His walls were covered in pictures. Drawings. They were amazing. People covered the walls. I saw Devin, a little child, the man I saw in the trophy room, millions of detailed hands, and eyes. They were stunning.

“Beautiful” I said. I could sense his grin, but it was more, almost serious this time.

“Hobby of mine” he responded, following my gaze.

Not only was there sketches, but photography everywhere, of cheery people smiling. I went through the line of faces, till I stopped cold. My heart sank. “Who is that?” I pointed to a photograph in a far corner. There were two men holding golf clubs. “Oh that, that’s just my Dad and one of his buddies, Drake or something..why?” he asked seeing something I’m my face, or my eyes.

“No reason..can we get a refill on this water or something?” I asked looking away.

He was silent for the slightest second. “Yeah, sure let’s go downstairs, Devin should be here any minute.” he said, and eyebrow slightly raised. He went out the door. I turned back to the photo once more.

I wonder if his father knew he was friends with a rapist.

Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast