There Is A Stranger In My House!

JOHN'S POINT OF VIEW (POV)

Words. They can tell a story untold. They can transport you to an unknown land, or bury you deep into the core of the earth. They have the power to bring people together, as well as tear them apart. They can make a promise over a pinkie swear, or be used to back stab people. They are our tool of communication and our tool of restriction. They express feelings as well as material objects. Which are some of the reasons why I write. I could inform the people of the world, or serenade them with fantasies bubbling up inside me.

I could even... Bribe them.

I sit at my desk, my fingers flying furiously across my keyboard. Words entangle with each other to form sentences, paragraphs, and so on... All coming from my head.

It's around 6 pm but I'm so engrossed in writing that I don't pay attention nor do I hear anything around me. It's only when I hear the door opening that I abruptly spin around in my chair.

Is it a burglar?! My angry math teacher finally coming to murder me?! A runaway gorilla-

On the other side of the door, I see...

My mother. Of course, she does tend to like to come into my room uninvited. Her long, black and straight hair is tied up in a neat bun and her porcelain skin shines slightly in the light of my room lamp. She stands in the doorway, contemplating my computer screen before finally saying something.

"Aren't you supposed to be working on your debate?" She asks, titling her head to the side.

"I already finished it." I answer. When she pulls a face, I add "And all my other homework too." She gives me a satisfied smile, but I'm not sure if she really cares.

"You have to be careful, though. Senior year in high school can be quite hectic, if ya think about it. Anyways...! I need you to come with me." She declares in her cheery, high pitched voice.

"To... Where?" I ask, reluctant to leave.

She gives me her most devilish smile as her icy blue eyes stare deep into mine. I swear her voice dropped at least two octaves. "Your dad and I want to talk to you." I feel a cold sweat run down my back. She reaches out to me and softly, but forcefully, grabs my arm. Since when did she get close to me?!

"Okay..." I say, gently brushing her hand off my arm.

"Good!" She smiles brightly and I almost forget that she was scary just a split second ago. Her voice is back to normal. I can practically see flowers blooming all around her, like in a manga or something. "Let's go!" She turns around and beckons for me to follow her.

***

My dad sits in his favorite chair while regarding me with a serious expression that I've never seen before. His legs are crossed, while his elbow is resting on his left side armrest and his chin in his palm. My mother rests her right hand in the top of the velvety chair and stands behind my father. "We need to talk to you, John."

"Umm... I've been hearing that a lot, but what are you going to actually tell me?" I ask, running my fingers through my short brown hair nervously. I'm actually quite happy that they're both in front of me, in the flesh, since I barely see them together at home. They're workaholics even on the weekends. It's kind of like I alone live in the house.

My dad and my mom exchange glances. And... "We're going to be fostering someone for a bit." My father declares in a sort of deadpan tone of voice. I tense up.

Fostering?! Would that lead to... Adoption...?

Alone in his small bed, a small little boy cries in the darkness of the large room he's in. Around his bed, dozens of other ones are scattered around, all containing children of his age or younger and teens alike. Yet, with all these people around him, he can't help but feel alone. He doesn't care if anybody hears him, yet he still stifles his sobbing against the soft pillow that the keepers gave him. There doesn't seem to be any hope for him, since not many people would want to take someone who's older than a baby or a toddler. He wouldn't be alone now, if-

"John..."

"John..."

"JOHN!"

My head snaps back up when I hear my name being shouted. My parents are there, staring at me with worried faces.

"Is everything alright?" My mother asks, reaching out to take my hand. She was closer now. And I didn't like that.

When she touches my right hand that was in a fist beside me, I instinctively pull it away. "It's nothing." I say with a fake reassuring smile, pulling my hand to my chest.

She smiles bitterly. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that you don't like being touched sometimes..." She says apologetically. She doesn't seem to believe that everything's fine, but she doesn't push it. And with that, she returns to my father's side.

I chuckle slightly. "So, who's the kid?" I'm sure it should be some baby or toddler or something. I imagine a bubbling baby rolling around. I hope it won't get too loud in here, though.

"She's a year younger than you, so I'm sure you should get along." So she's a junior, then. When I try to say something, my father quickly puts his right hand up to stop me. "I know you might be skeptical because of your experience, but... Her parents passed away recently and she has nowhere to stay." He looks me straight in the eyes. His brown eyes hold mine in his steady gaze. I look away. He continues. "Her parents were.... close friends of ours." Close friends? So how come I've never heard of them before? And what was that pause about? I'm perplexed as I watch my dad take off his glasses and rub his eyes with his thumb and his pointer finger. He then quickly moves his hand away from his face and sighs. "Anyway, we owed them a favor. So... And she won't be staying forever. She'll just be here until we find a more... Suitable place for her."

I ball my hands into fists. "Okay." I say simply and smile, in contrast to my emotions.

"Really?" My mom seems surprised. "You're taking this that easily?"

"Yep. Anyways, even if we're practically the same age, it's not like we're actually going to get along, right?" I say, the smile on my face staying all the while. "Anyway, we should treat guest nicely, especially orphaned people."

My mother looks at me weirdly. "O-okay..." Apparently, she doesn't dare ask. She knows where I'm coming from. "Hey! Pickles and apples don't mix. So, what do you want for dinner?"

I stare blankly at her and my dad turns around to stare at her, too. She just smiles at us, like everything is normal in the world. Ah, she's trying to lighten the mood.

I flash her a tender smile. "Whatever you cook is nice." I say politely. I DO mean it. I feel really happy again. Dinner time when my mom makes food is one of the only times we get to be together as a family, and that doesn't happen a lot. Though I still enjoy the times I have alone.

My father stands up slowly from his chair. "What he said." He says, smiling at my mother. Only mom can make him smile like that. He goes to hug her from behind. Okay! I have witnessed PDA once again!

"I'm going to just... See myself to my room." I discretely slip away so that I don't witness anything I shouldn't. "Call me when food's ready, please!"

When I get to my room, I smile to myself. But then, I remember that the girl is coming soon. I'm not sure how to feel, since I've never seen her and I don't know her. Anyways, she won't be staying for long, so I don't have to worry. But... I don't particularly enjoy a stranger's company.

The next day...

I walk out of my room after waking up late. I love long weekends.

After taking a shower in the bathroom, I walk out shirtless, only wearing some casual black pants. My parents shouldn't be around today. I go to the kitchen to get some food, but stop in my tracks when I see a girl around my age sitting on the sofa in the living room. She doesn't seem to notice me yet.

"Who... are you?" I blurt out, and she hurriedly turns to look at me at the sound of my voice. When she sees me, her eyes go wide and her face turns as red as a tomato.

Seriously, what is a stranger doing in our house?!