Status: Its an old story | Everything before 'Restless' needs heavy editing.
Two Dead Boys
Unease
Paris wandered around the house with Matt as he set out to find his room. He had managed to get down the Protein shake surprisingly well. “I’m not really feeling any of these rooms” he said stopping in front of a nice sized room, it was covered in peeling but once beautiful caged bird wallpaper, in it a full length mirror, but not much else. Paris froze and she remembered the photo she found, she reached for the pocket in her skirt letting her fingers glide over the photo. A deep lonely feeling throbbed in her chest, the room seemed to be filled with it, more so the loneliness that dust even. “No” Matt muttered turning to leave the room. Paris looked around once more before going to follow Matt.
At the head of the stairs, Paris halted. It felt as if something were watching her. Turning around, once gain she saw nothing. Look down the hall she noticed for the first time, the Attic stairs. Paris stood facing them, her feet took her to the foot of the Attic stairs on their own accord. A tingling feeling ticked her arms and legs. “Come” something called in her head “here” it called again. Taking to the beckoning Paris headed up the stairs.
Meanwhile, Matt found himself in the Basement, looking at the same place that had been in the horrifying dream he had the night before. The very dream that woke him screaming. He looked around and noticed, Paris had not followed him. “Mom probably asked her for help” he reasoned.
Paris opened the door to the Attic, she opened the door and gazed into dusty darkness, a few thin rays of light poured through narrow small windows in the tilted roof, and through a few cracks in the old wood. Dust particles floating like the dust off a moths wings in the sun rays. “This place” Paris muttered stepping inside, “this places feels” she heard the floor creek slightly as she stepped down near the center of the Attic. The floor there was weak, “better be careful” she told herself stepping over it, she stood in the sun light, closing her eyes the warm early summer sun felt nice magnified through the glass, kissing her skin. A cold breath brushed against her neck, a powerful contrast to the warm sunlight. Paris’ eyes snapped open and she turned around, again, no one there. Paris squinted her eyes at the wall behind her, faded writing was etched into the wall. Paris ran her fingers over it wishing she could have made out what it said.
Faintly, Paris could hear a distant semi-constant ping it then turned to a light knocking. She pulled her hand away from the wall, and glanced back behind her, but only for a moment as something moved in the corner of her eyes. In the corner, for a small second she thought she saw something huddled there. Gazing hard Paris saw nothing, and then “what’s that?” Paris asked herself at the sound, of Loud vibrating and turning of Gears. Grinding and Clanking. “Chains?” Paris asked, rising to her feet, she almost forgot about the weak spot in the floor, she quickly stepped over it and hurried down the stairs, unaware of the saddened wilting presence watching behind her as she closed the door.
Looking to the side, Paris’ eyes fell on a small elevator in the wall, “so that’s what that thing was last night” she breathed, “Matt?” Sara questioned having come up the stairs. The two looked at each other, Sara peered in the nearest room “Matt did you pick a room?” she called and even though she was far from the Elevator shaft her voice seemed to waft into it expanding. “Yeah I did” They could hear Matts voice, but there was no Matt. Paris shuddered she did not like the feeling it gave her, It was like –
“Stop it” Paris told herself shutting her eyes tightly.
“he’s down stairs, down in the basement, that’s it, that’s where the Elevator goes” she reasoned, following Sara down the stairs, “but how do I-” Paris thought following Sara through the Kitchen and into the Basement “know this?” she muttered looking around she was mildly appalled by the dirty dust filled room. Covered in lonely abandoned spider webs, a cold stone walls. It was dank, and somewhat cold. Her eyes wandered around the room and landed on a furnace, a low whine hummed in her ears, suddenly getting louder and pitchier by the second. Was it the furnace? Was it because she was looking at it? Or was it her dust allergen? Whatever it was, Paris didn’t like it.
“It picked me” Matt said the sound of his voice instantly crashed through the whining, Paris’ ears popped and tingled, her ear drums happy for the release. Paris turned to Matt “what do you mean picked you?” Sara asked, Paris looked up “like the attic…” she thought. Matt glanced at Paris something about her in the moment seemed different, her body looked the same, but in her eyes, her eyes seemed different. “Matt?” Sara asked, as she watch her son focus on Paris, who moved her gaze from Matt to the furnace. “I don’t know….It’s my meds mom” Matts said as casually as he could, turning to look around the room. “So which room?” Sara sked trying to change the subject. Matts moved his hands and arms outwards slowly gesturing to all that was around him. “Here?” Sara asked cautiously, taking another look around. As a mother all she saw was dust, dirt, bugs, mold and Mildew as well as a very sick son. In short Sara didn’t like it.
“I like it. It’s nice and cool. And best of all, my own private toilet” Matt gave an apologetic smile “nobody has to hear me, down here” he added. Paris walked over to Matt and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest as he wrapped one arm around her as well. “Honey, you don’t have to hide from us” Sara stated with pity and sorrow. Matt looked down at Paris and brushed her hair “knowing everyone can hear me puke, it kinda makes me feel worse” Matt confessed, Paris hugged him tighter. If he was going to stay down here, she would have too as well, as the only room that called out to her war all the way at the tiptop of the house. Much to far from him if he was going to be all the way down here.
Her eyes wandered back over to the furnace “and that thing” she thought. It looked at her looming, she could almost picture it have a nasty frown on it smooth, slightly rusted black surface. Matt released Paris and walked over to a half glass wall, he tried at the nob of a door in the center. But it seemed locked. Listening to the found of the knob turning Paris realized it wasn’t locked just stuck. Matt seemed determined to get it open. “Don’t open it!” a voice hidden deep in the back of Paris’ mind screamed, and she agreed, some fearful prickled at her heart, and it raced like the wind. Pounding hard as if wanted to leap out of her chest and stop him. “Matt leave it let your dad look at it…don’t waste too much energy on the door” Paris called her voice somewhat shaky but she covered it well. “She’s right” Sara said waking over to him. They both pressed their faces to the glass. Peering in. Paris felt dwarfed as she stood alone watching them, no watching the door. A cold fear biting at her body.
Loud commotion racked up stairs, the kids yelling and Wendy calling after them, Paris giggled at the sound, at her happy call Matt turned to look at her smiling. He loved her little laugh, it seemed to bring light into the dark room.
Up on the main floor out in the yard, Paris helped Peter and Sara carry in some boxes and light furniture while Wendy made sure the kids didn’t tear apart the house. Matt came out of the house and strode over to his father, smiling at Paris and his mother as they waddled by helping each other carry a wooden coffee table. “Hey hand me that one there” Matt called pointing to what looked like a large box. Peter glanced at him “you can’t, you might-” simultaneously “I can-” they spoke, Matt looked frustrated as Paris pranced out happily reaching into the U-Haul and pulling out two laps before heading back inside the house. “Dad” matt said slowly, “I’m not going to kick the bucket from a box full of cushions and bedding” Matt said dryly. Peter smiled a bit and chuckled “No, I meant you might scratch the Truck” he laughed.
It was true, Peter loved his old model truck, it wasn’t a classic but pretty close to it. It always had a remarkable shine and looked freshly waxed. Even now it still managed to have that new car smell and never looked dirty. Matt laughed with his father, and turned to see Paris headed back to the U-Haul. He picked up the light but big box, steadied his balance and braced himself to walk towards the house. Peter smirked knowingly, “a big light box is perfect huh?” he asked, is eye flickering over to Paris who was using the Dolly to move a side table. Matt blushed a bit “Ok so I’m sick, I’m not what I was, I except that” he said glancing over to her “But as long as she doesn’t know these are cushions, it looks like I’ve gain some strength” Matt confessed, Peter nodded and laughed inwardly “well you go on right ahead” he paused and snickered “muscle man” he added. Matt glared at his father playfully.
Paris heading back out to the moving truck halted as she spotted Mat carrying the large box. “Matt!” she called running to him arms prepared to take some of the weight of the box. “No, no!” matt called quickly Paris stopped and tilted her head “I’ve got it” he stated moving pretty easily along. Paris watched bewildered “But-but isn’t that heavy?” Paris asked, a slight worry in a voice “I got it don’t worry” Matt said moving past her, “If It was too much I’d put it down” he reasoned Paris groaned “but it’s so big!” she gasped exasperated Matt set the box down in the living room carefully to hide the label of what was in the box and turned to Paris with a smirk “that’s what she said!” he scoffed, Paris blushed “I should have seen that one coming” She muttered before laughing in spite of herself. At least he had a good attitude still. He hadn’t changed a bit.
Even so Paris could not help but watch after Matt with worry as he headed back out the house, she glanced back at the large box. “I can’t keep doing that” she said. Peter entering with a box on his shoulder tapped Paris’ shoulder “hey flip the box over...but you didn’t hear it from me” he muttered to the worried girl. Paris looked at Peter and then to the box, as she went to roll the box over she noticed how light it really ways and then her eyes landed on the crude sharpie writing “Cushions” Paris set the box back the way it was and looked out the door shaking her head she smiled. “Still trying to show off, even now” she sighed going back out to help.
“Wendy, Paris we thought you girls would like to share a room” Sara called merrily showing the girls to the room with the caged bird wallpaper. “Totally!” Wendy called looking around the room, “there’s enough room for two twin beds in here and a few other things” Wendy called in love with the room. Paris fell silent, as that same lonely feeling washed over her. “Paris” a voice called softly form down the hall. She looked around, but it seemed as though no one else could hear it. “Paris?” Wendy asked the blonde girl looked up and smiled “sure this is going to be awesome!” She called pushing a fake smile. “Here” the voice called that same wind-like lull. Paris backed out of the room, and Wendy and Sara chatted.
In the hall she could feel a soft light wind leading her down the hall and to the attic stairs. Paris stood there looking up “Paris” it called again “here” She took a step when a hand grasped hers. “Hey, the dust is getting to me, I was wondering if you want to walk up the block with me?” Matt asked giving her a smile. Paris glanced at him and then back to the Attic. Matt’s smile fell at the odd look on her face. “Right” Paris said slowly, she turned her gaze away from the door to Matt. She smiled “sure, but not fast ok” she said Matts eyes softened on her, she seemed to worry too much but at least she wasn’t has hindering as his mother “never, now come on” he urged, as they walked off Paris stole one last glance at the Attic door. Slowly it opened up on its own. A mellifluous and sorrow heavy wind rushed past her, she glanced at Matt who seemed not to feel it.
At the head of the stairs, Paris halted. It felt as if something were watching her. Turning around, once gain she saw nothing. Look down the hall she noticed for the first time, the Attic stairs. Paris stood facing them, her feet took her to the foot of the Attic stairs on their own accord. A tingling feeling ticked her arms and legs. “Come” something called in her head “here” it called again. Taking to the beckoning Paris headed up the stairs.
Meanwhile, Matt found himself in the Basement, looking at the same place that had been in the horrifying dream he had the night before. The very dream that woke him screaming. He looked around and noticed, Paris had not followed him. “Mom probably asked her for help” he reasoned.
Paris opened the door to the Attic, she opened the door and gazed into dusty darkness, a few thin rays of light poured through narrow small windows in the tilted roof, and through a few cracks in the old wood. Dust particles floating like the dust off a moths wings in the sun rays. “This place” Paris muttered stepping inside, “this places feels” she heard the floor creek slightly as she stepped down near the center of the Attic. The floor there was weak, “better be careful” she told herself stepping over it, she stood in the sun light, closing her eyes the warm early summer sun felt nice magnified through the glass, kissing her skin. A cold breath brushed against her neck, a powerful contrast to the warm sunlight. Paris’ eyes snapped open and she turned around, again, no one there. Paris squinted her eyes at the wall behind her, faded writing was etched into the wall. Paris ran her fingers over it wishing she could have made out what it said.
Faintly, Paris could hear a distant semi-constant ping it then turned to a light knocking. She pulled her hand away from the wall, and glanced back behind her, but only for a moment as something moved in the corner of her eyes. In the corner, for a small second she thought she saw something huddled there. Gazing hard Paris saw nothing, and then “what’s that?” Paris asked herself at the sound, of Loud vibrating and turning of Gears. Grinding and Clanking. “Chains?” Paris asked, rising to her feet, she almost forgot about the weak spot in the floor, she quickly stepped over it and hurried down the stairs, unaware of the saddened wilting presence watching behind her as she closed the door.
Looking to the side, Paris’ eyes fell on a small elevator in the wall, “so that’s what that thing was last night” she breathed, “Matt?” Sara questioned having come up the stairs. The two looked at each other, Sara peered in the nearest room “Matt did you pick a room?” she called and even though she was far from the Elevator shaft her voice seemed to waft into it expanding. “Yeah I did” They could hear Matts voice, but there was no Matt. Paris shuddered she did not like the feeling it gave her, It was like –
“Stop it” Paris told herself shutting her eyes tightly.
“he’s down stairs, down in the basement, that’s it, that’s where the Elevator goes” she reasoned, following Sara down the stairs, “but how do I-” Paris thought following Sara through the Kitchen and into the Basement “know this?” she muttered looking around she was mildly appalled by the dirty dust filled room. Covered in lonely abandoned spider webs, a cold stone walls. It was dank, and somewhat cold. Her eyes wandered around the room and landed on a furnace, a low whine hummed in her ears, suddenly getting louder and pitchier by the second. Was it the furnace? Was it because she was looking at it? Or was it her dust allergen? Whatever it was, Paris didn’t like it.
“It picked me” Matt said the sound of his voice instantly crashed through the whining, Paris’ ears popped and tingled, her ear drums happy for the release. Paris turned to Matt “what do you mean picked you?” Sara asked, Paris looked up “like the attic…” she thought. Matt glanced at Paris something about her in the moment seemed different, her body looked the same, but in her eyes, her eyes seemed different. “Matt?” Sara asked, as she watch her son focus on Paris, who moved her gaze from Matt to the furnace. “I don’t know….It’s my meds mom” Matts said as casually as he could, turning to look around the room. “So which room?” Sara sked trying to change the subject. Matts moved his hands and arms outwards slowly gesturing to all that was around him. “Here?” Sara asked cautiously, taking another look around. As a mother all she saw was dust, dirt, bugs, mold and Mildew as well as a very sick son. In short Sara didn’t like it.
“I like it. It’s nice and cool. And best of all, my own private toilet” Matt gave an apologetic smile “nobody has to hear me, down here” he added. Paris walked over to Matt and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest as he wrapped one arm around her as well. “Honey, you don’t have to hide from us” Sara stated with pity and sorrow. Matt looked down at Paris and brushed her hair “knowing everyone can hear me puke, it kinda makes me feel worse” Matt confessed, Paris hugged him tighter. If he was going to stay down here, she would have too as well, as the only room that called out to her war all the way at the tiptop of the house. Much to far from him if he was going to be all the way down here.
Her eyes wandered back over to the furnace “and that thing” she thought. It looked at her looming, she could almost picture it have a nasty frown on it smooth, slightly rusted black surface. Matt released Paris and walked over to a half glass wall, he tried at the nob of a door in the center. But it seemed locked. Listening to the found of the knob turning Paris realized it wasn’t locked just stuck. Matt seemed determined to get it open. “Don’t open it!” a voice hidden deep in the back of Paris’ mind screamed, and she agreed, some fearful prickled at her heart, and it raced like the wind. Pounding hard as if wanted to leap out of her chest and stop him. “Matt leave it let your dad look at it…don’t waste too much energy on the door” Paris called her voice somewhat shaky but she covered it well. “She’s right” Sara said waking over to him. They both pressed their faces to the glass. Peering in. Paris felt dwarfed as she stood alone watching them, no watching the door. A cold fear biting at her body.
Loud commotion racked up stairs, the kids yelling and Wendy calling after them, Paris giggled at the sound, at her happy call Matt turned to look at her smiling. He loved her little laugh, it seemed to bring light into the dark room.
Up on the main floor out in the yard, Paris helped Peter and Sara carry in some boxes and light furniture while Wendy made sure the kids didn’t tear apart the house. Matt came out of the house and strode over to his father, smiling at Paris and his mother as they waddled by helping each other carry a wooden coffee table. “Hey hand me that one there” Matt called pointing to what looked like a large box. Peter glanced at him “you can’t, you might-” simultaneously “I can-” they spoke, Matt looked frustrated as Paris pranced out happily reaching into the U-Haul and pulling out two laps before heading back inside the house. “Dad” matt said slowly, “I’m not going to kick the bucket from a box full of cushions and bedding” Matt said dryly. Peter smiled a bit and chuckled “No, I meant you might scratch the Truck” he laughed.
It was true, Peter loved his old model truck, it wasn’t a classic but pretty close to it. It always had a remarkable shine and looked freshly waxed. Even now it still managed to have that new car smell and never looked dirty. Matt laughed with his father, and turned to see Paris headed back to the U-Haul. He picked up the light but big box, steadied his balance and braced himself to walk towards the house. Peter smirked knowingly, “a big light box is perfect huh?” he asked, is eye flickering over to Paris who was using the Dolly to move a side table. Matt blushed a bit “Ok so I’m sick, I’m not what I was, I except that” he said glancing over to her “But as long as she doesn’t know these are cushions, it looks like I’ve gain some strength” Matt confessed, Peter nodded and laughed inwardly “well you go on right ahead” he paused and snickered “muscle man” he added. Matt glared at his father playfully.
Paris heading back out to the moving truck halted as she spotted Mat carrying the large box. “Matt!” she called running to him arms prepared to take some of the weight of the box. “No, no!” matt called quickly Paris stopped and tilted her head “I’ve got it” he stated moving pretty easily along. Paris watched bewildered “But-but isn’t that heavy?” Paris asked, a slight worry in a voice “I got it don’t worry” Matt said moving past her, “If It was too much I’d put it down” he reasoned Paris groaned “but it’s so big!” she gasped exasperated Matt set the box down in the living room carefully to hide the label of what was in the box and turned to Paris with a smirk “that’s what she said!” he scoffed, Paris blushed “I should have seen that one coming” She muttered before laughing in spite of herself. At least he had a good attitude still. He hadn’t changed a bit.
Even so Paris could not help but watch after Matt with worry as he headed back out the house, she glanced back at the large box. “I can’t keep doing that” she said. Peter entering with a box on his shoulder tapped Paris’ shoulder “hey flip the box over...but you didn’t hear it from me” he muttered to the worried girl. Paris looked at Peter and then to the box, as she went to roll the box over she noticed how light it really ways and then her eyes landed on the crude sharpie writing “Cushions” Paris set the box back the way it was and looked out the door shaking her head she smiled. “Still trying to show off, even now” she sighed going back out to help.
“Wendy, Paris we thought you girls would like to share a room” Sara called merrily showing the girls to the room with the caged bird wallpaper. “Totally!” Wendy called looking around the room, “there’s enough room for two twin beds in here and a few other things” Wendy called in love with the room. Paris fell silent, as that same lonely feeling washed over her. “Paris” a voice called softly form down the hall. She looked around, but it seemed as though no one else could hear it. “Paris?” Wendy asked the blonde girl looked up and smiled “sure this is going to be awesome!” She called pushing a fake smile. “Here” the voice called that same wind-like lull. Paris backed out of the room, and Wendy and Sara chatted.
In the hall she could feel a soft light wind leading her down the hall and to the attic stairs. Paris stood there looking up “Paris” it called again “here” She took a step when a hand grasped hers. “Hey, the dust is getting to me, I was wondering if you want to walk up the block with me?” Matt asked giving her a smile. Paris glanced at him and then back to the Attic. Matt’s smile fell at the odd look on her face. “Right” Paris said slowly, she turned her gaze away from the door to Matt. She smiled “sure, but not fast ok” she said Matts eyes softened on her, she seemed to worry too much but at least she wasn’t has hindering as his mother “never, now come on” he urged, as they walked off Paris stole one last glance at the Attic door. Slowly it opened up on its own. A mellifluous and sorrow heavy wind rushed past her, she glanced at Matt who seemed not to feel it.