The Vanishing House

There were many good reasons why I should seek to obliterate The Vanishing House. In fact, I couldn't see any pros that outweighed the cons. If I banished the house, it wouldn't haunt us like our shadows anymore. We wouldn't be scared; we'd be liberated. And while it had yet to be proven dangerous, if I eradicated it, it would never get the chance to unleash whatever evils it held. I was positively giddy about my prospect, not because of the fame I would receive, but of all the glorious benefits that would grace us if the menacing house was gone.

My only trouble was figuring out how to destroy it. I didn't know what sort of magic it held, so I had to think of everything. Would fire burn it? What if there was a protective spell around it? What if the only way to harm it was by the use of magic?

The questions and frustrations multiplied as I worked the counter in the bakery. I was usually very sweet to the customers, but my anxieties were getting the better of me, and I seemed to be frightening away some business. No one liked a snappy barista with a rotten attitude, I suppose. When the little bell at the entrance of the shop rang out, I ignored it, keeping my head buried in my arms on the counter, my brain reeling back and forth for some sort of enlightening thought to shine on me.

"Nell, love," a voice said from over at the doorway. "Why so glum?"

I looked up without needing to. I knew that voice as well as my own. It belonged to Jerome, a childhood friend, and future owner of the local flower shop, Beezel's Buds. His sandy blonde hair always smelled like roses, and all his shirts seemed permanently stained by pollen. He was the closest thing to a best friend I had. He always made time to stop by the bakery everyday to visit. Ma loved him - I think she thought we'd fall in love and be married.

I was about to respond to Jerome when I realized I couldn't tell him the truth about my ponderings. If I had, he would have tried to talk me out of it, or gotten my parents involved if I was too stubborn. So I told a half-truth.

"It's Denny," I finally replied. "He gave us the most frightening of frights this morning when he decided to leave home in pursuit of adventure, the brat."

"Come now," Jerome spoke in between laughs. "You're a filthy hypocrite! I distinctly remember an occasion in which you and I... Okay, well, maybe not a distinct occasion. But we've had our fair share of madness. Like the time we tried to fly by leaping from Beezel's roof and only ended up with broken dreams and broken arms."

I could see why Ma thought Jerome and I were fit for each other. We spoke so effortlessly, our conversations flowing with the natural ease of a river. And we were very much alike in the sense that we were doomed - or what I saw as doomed, he saw it as wonderful - to inherit our parents' workplaces and live in our secluded city for the rest of our lives. Jerome was like a dog. He was sweet and he accepted whatever was handed to him with a sort of calmness and gratitude. I was not a dog. I was not and never would be a dog.

I chuckled at the memory. "Oh, my stars, that was the absolute worst! And we couldn't heal fast because the town witch had died the day before! Goodness, I miss that old hag. She had eyes of steel and a temper like a thunderstorm, but she was better than any doctor that has lived in these parts. I miss having a witch around."

Jerome looked at me with apprehension filling his eyes to the brim. This immediately made me angry. I was angry at Jerome for being scared of magic when he used to be so fond of its power when we were young, and I was mad at The Vanishing House for making witches and magic taboo. My bad mood came raging back like an indecisive, nasty storm front.

"Jerome, I think you better take a scone and continue on your merry way," I snarled.

Taken aback, Jerome furrowed his brow and gave me something short of a glare. "Nell, I think you're going to go absolutely batty someday, and you'll be too proud to tell anyone why."

With that he left. So I had hurt his feelings. What of it? Life wasn't all daisies. Yeah, my anger hadn't worn off yet and I shouldn't have snapped at him, especially when he had known all along that it wasn't Denny that aggravated me and was just trying to cheer me up. But I didn't want to concentrate on puppy-dog Jerome. My thoughts had to return back to The Vanishing House.

The fact of the matter was no one knew anything about the strange place other than the basic knowledge we acquired by seeing it peering out at us over the years. I couldn't know of its defenses or how to beat it unless I did one thing.

I would have to go out and explore The Vanishing House first-hand.