Chapter 11:

The next day, I tried to get Mom to tell me the real truth about what happened in this house, but somehow, she always had something else to do.

"Hey, Mom! I want to talk to you about—"

"Oh, look, your father can't lift this all by himself. Why don't you go and help him, Trish?" she interjected her voice a little too bright, a thin veil over the underlying tension.

"Well, I could, but after that, can we talk about—"

"What did you say? I told you we needed to get work done, hon. I have to clean, sweep the floors, vacuum the carpets, dust the bookshelves, blah blah blah..." She rattled off the list, her eyes darting around as if looking for an escape.

So, I think the short answer would be no.

Kiara hadn't woken up yet. None of us suggested waking her up, and I think that was for the best. We cleaned in silence, preparing for this potentially haunted new house—or old, since it was our grandfather's house and their parents' house. The house creaked and groaned as if it were a living entity breathing around us.

"I'm going to check this place out for a bit, make sure there's no cockroach or mice infestation," I breathed, the musty smell of old wood and dust filling my nostrils.

"Ooh, you know what, son? That sounds responsible of you," Dad said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, and make sure to put out some traps if you hear anything sneaking around in the walls or something. Just make sure you kill it."

"Oook," I replied, turning to gather some mouse traps and cockroach spray. The traps felt cold and metallic in my hands, the pesticides heavy with a chemical scent. I started in the living room, the old furniture looming like silent sentinels, then moved to the kitchen, where the faded linoleum floor whispered of countless meals prepared and shared. Thankfully, there was nothing to be heard, no mouse droppings or any cockroach larvae—which are called nymphs, by the way.

"Okay, all done here. Looks alright. I'm going to check upstairs." I shuffled upstairs with my pesticides, the wooden steps creaking under my weight.

"Oh yeah, be careful, and don't wake up your sister. She's still recovering, that poor kid," Dad said, shaking his head. His voice carried a note of guilt, a heavy burden that hung in the air.

"Okay, but will you please fix the internet? I'm going crazy just seeing you guys' faces all day long," I sneered, the old wallpaper peeling off the walls in a slow, sad decay.

"Oh really? You don't want to see your old man's face?"

"Oh, Trish, don't you want to spend some quality time with family?" Mom asked, her voice strained as she dusted a shelf lined with old, forgotten books.

"No, and it's been a lot of days since I've logged into Vipernet," I called out, the frustration boiling over.

"Oh, you wouldn't say that when you look down at your old man's grave and cry about it!" Dad shouted from below, his words echoing ominously in the hollow house.

"Oh, hush now, that's enough talk about death and dying," Mom whispered, her voice breaking slightly. I looked back at her, her face partially obscured by shadows in the dim hallway, but I could see her strained expression, the facade cracking.

She acts so innocent. What could she possibly know about this house that drove her brother, my uncle, mad until he died? And why won't she tell me, tell us, the truth about this place?

I decided the only way to deal with this was to call my grandparents and ask them directly. Gramps is away on his grand tour since they hit the jackpot, and they've lived quite a great life in this house, so they must know something about it. The idea of sneaking out filled me with a rebellious thrill, the desire for answers burning within me.

Suddenly, I felt a surge of curiosity and decided to sneak out and call them. Since there was no network, I might have to try a telephone booth, the thought of the old rotary dial made me oddly nostalgic.

But my parents were downstairs, and my mom would start yelling at me about responsibility if I sneaked out again. Her voice, filled with a desperate need for control, would chase me down like a shadow.

I sighed. I guess I have to search the house for any 'clues' and then split when the house is quiet in a few hours when Dad takes a nap and Mom starts reading.

It looked like they were quite energetic for now since they started arguing about some damn candle in the corner for 'healing your inner chakra' or whatnot. Other than that, there was no other noise in the upper part of the house. Kiara doesn't seem to wake up, which is weird, since she is a natural early riser, one who wakes us all up and acts as our backup alarm. I knocked a little bit to see if she was awake, but there was no response from the other side.

The house seemed to watch me, its secrets hidden in every corner, every shadowed nook.