Welcome to Rayburg (3)

A great deal of time passed before my stomach growled. Distracted, I made my way downstairs. There wasn't much left to do. Most of our things were still in the car or U-Haul, and I currently didn't have anything essential to unpack. Since earlier, the living room had somewhat cleared. Most of the boxes belonged to my parents, and they hadn't ever been able to stand clutter. They had worked relatively fast to clear things up. 

Aimless, I threw open the fridge, violently tugging its handle as it creaked. It seemed to be old. Vintage, even. A yellow lightbulb inside shone on nothing. In the cupboards, there was still nothing. I sighed, disappointed in myself for having expectations. The kitchen would've been a dream come true with its mid-eighties looks. If only it had food. 

Glancing at the narrow pantry, I spotted a box of pancake batter. Figuring that the end results wouldn't be too tricky or filling, I continued rummaging around until I found a pan. It was one of those tiny ones made for eggs, but it could hopefully get the job done. 

I left it to sit, turning the burner on to preheat. Added water to the mixture; couldn't find a whisk, so it had to be substituted with a fork. Moments later, a glob of batter was poured into the small pan. It was disgustingly solid and lumpy. And it was a shade of yellow that no pancake batter should be. 

"Fat-ass," a voice from behind snickered. 

Jumping, I spun around to see Benji leaning on the counter, eyelids drooping as he tiredly yawned. 

"You hungry?" I asked, disregarding his jab at my weight. It was only my duty as an elder sister to do so while acting unaffected. 

Benji nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Only make a few. Mom and dad should be back with some pizza soon. I even told them to get pineapple for you, so don't make me regret that because I'm not eating it if you get full." 

"How long have they been gone for?" 

"Like, twenty so far." 

I nodded, stabbing the edge of her pancake to flip it. Upon seeing my failed attempts to do so, Benji elbowed my side so harshly that I was sure it would bruise. 

"Here, gimme." He practically ripped the fork from my hands. Then, exposing the burnt side with ease, he sighed in disappointment. "Why do you even try? You're more likely to get addicted to edibles than make anything that could be called that." 

"Shut up," I huffed. There had been plenty of times I tried, but I had barely been allowed in the kitchen as a child. Yet, despite being younger, that job always became his. My clumsiness and disregard of oven mitts were the main reasons I protested. 

Benji rolled his eyes yet again. We fell into silence as he continued flipping pancakes, the next few turning out better than the first. By the time he was finishing, I'd already eaten my half. The burned bits were ripped off and gathered, placed somewhere on the counter as I moved to wash the dishes. Much to my confusion, he set his share down on a napkin, rolling up his sleeves to take my place. 

I couldn't help but worry. Had Benji hit his head somewhere? He wasn't usually this kind. Something had to be wrong. Perhaps it was something in the water, or too little oxygen had gotten to his head. 

"What?" he said, aggressively scrubbing the pan. "I feel bad for knocking down your stuff. Thought I broke a snow globe or something." He stopped, shamefully glancing over. "The one from Popo was old too." 

"Don't worry, you didn't break any. I sold those for a ton of cash before we even packed." 

I grinned at the pained groan he offered in response. Reaching up to ruffle his hair, I laughed, seeing how he stooped over. Despite how angsty and tough he acted, he was, first and foremost, the younger brother that I'd do anything for. That included trying and failing to make pancakes because he'd always be there to help clean the mess. 

"If you're rich, then can you buy me chicken nuggets? Ma won't. She hates frozen foods." 

"Sure. I'll add it to the grocery list. I should be going tomorrow with her anyway. So I'll just sneak some in while she's not looking. Anything else?" 

He thought, freezing in place. "Ooh, get some sriracha and eggs while you're at it." 

"Okay," I hummed. Then, scanning the room, I squinted. "Where's the trash?" 

"I think I saw them put it outside." 

Nodding, I scooped the burned pancake parts up and walked past the table and towards the sliding glass door. Opening it, I was greeted by an even creakier wooden deck. Barefoot, I was worried about splinters but crossed over to the trashcan, nevertheless. 

The woods were once again in clear view from where I stood, only they seemed higher from down here. They were dark and mysterious at night, the clean air they provided filling my lungs as I breathed in. It was earthy in scent, a nice contrast to the sea of cracked yellow grasses we'd lived amongst back in Texas. 

For a moment, all was calm. Then there were the animal noises that interrupt the peace, some near sounding and others far. But there was nothing to worry about; none of them sounded too dangerous, save for the owl. I hated owls, those creepy little things. 

I could distract myself for now. Everything was so green and lively, even at night. Out here, it felt as if I were a new world that thrives in the dark as much as light. Such thoughts fill my mind as I throw out the trash. The woods work wonders like that on my tired brain. 

Somewhere, something was getting closer. I heard the bushes rustle, shuffling as if something was moving around in them. Fearful, I retreat, entirely missing the trashcan's mouth. Pancake bits fell below, and I was already inside and tightly shutting the door and locking it. Benji scoffed, saying how idiotic I looked, but I couldn't even care; the fear seizing my muscles was overwhelming. Whatever creature that was can have it. I just hoped it wouldn't return for more.