Home Alone
By: Majanka Verstraete
©2013 by Majanka Verstraete
Penny suppressed a yawn. A bright, round moon cast a silvery light on her surroundings, piercing through a thick layer of fog, making everything look otherworldly. She dug her fingers into her skin to stay awake, a trick she’d learned from her mom. The car hobbled onward, much too slow for Penny’s liking.
In the front seat, Chelsea was chatting about God knows what, her voice sulky and low like always when she got tired. Matt, the designated driver, laughed out loud, every action exaggerated, every movement too sudden or too quick. Matt had like Chelsea since forever, but he’d never stood a chance. Chels had practically ditched the two of them to go talk to football captain Dave O’Connell, and she’d barely said three words to Matt, but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep on trying.
The car turned into Penny’s street, and the fog drifted apart, revealing Penny’s home ahead. The lights were off, and the house was cloaked in darkness.
Three years ago, back when Penny’s mom had somehow snagged up a new boyfriend and changed her lifestyle from responsible adult to partying wannabe-teenager, Penny had found it scary to come back to an empty house. But after years of being on her own till well after midnight, she’d gotten used to it. It didn’t bother her now that it was one o’clock at night and the odds were high she’d be on her own, since Mom had gone out earlier with Brad, the new boyfriend.
Turning on to her front porch, Matt switched to neutral, parked the car and turned the key. The car made one last sputtering sound and died.
“Here we are,” Matt said, diverting his attention to Penny for the first time since they’d left the party.
“Thanks for the ride,” Penny said. She offered him a small smile and started fumbling with the door handle.
“No problem”, Matt said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you, Pen,” Chelsea said, distracted.
Penny took a deep breath and got out of the car. She was glad to get away from Chelsea’s perfume, and could barely hide her annoyance. What good is a best friend if she ditches you whole night?
Tonight had been a disaster, Penny decided while walking to the front door. The headlights of Matt’s car nearly blinded her, and she dropped her keys twice while trying to open the door. Not only had Chelsea ditched her, flirting with obnoxious Dave, but Matt had straight out ignored any attempts of small talk Penny had made.
Penny sighed and pushed against the door with all her strength. In spring, when the weather was as dry and hot as today, the front door tended to get stuck.
Maybe she just wasn’t meant to be with someone. Wouldn’t be so bad – if her mom’s relationship with ‘the boyfriend’ was any example, then all relationships pretty much existed of heartbreak, crying, eating ice cream and then making up whenever he came over to apologize, even if said apology was half-hearted.
A small beam of light pierced through the opened door into the living room. Penny reached for the light switch, and relaxed when the bright lights turned on. No burglar in sight.
Penny waved through the opened door, and watched as Matt’s car pulled off the driveway. She couldn’t see if anyone waved back, thanks to the massive head lights. When the car turned around the corner, she closed the door and locked it.
There was no sign of her mom’s presence downstairs, which could mean two things. Either her Mom wasn’t home yet, or she hadn’t been wasted this time around. Sometimes, when she’d drunk too much, she’d crash on the couch, or start disrobing on the way to her room, leaving her clothes all over the stairs and floor.
Penny made her way through the forever-messy kitchen, where a pile of dishes the size of Mount Everest balanced dangerously on the side of the counter. She made a mental memo to clean the dishes first thing in the morning.
She went into the bathroom, throwing her shirt on the bath tub. She glanced at her own face through the mirror. Her mascara had smeared a little, and she had dark bags circling her eyes. With a grunt, she took out a tooth brush and began brushing her teeth.
A floorboard creaked over her head. Penny raised her eyebrows. What the heck?
When no other sound followed, she shrugged it off. The house was old and probably just settling down for the night. Especially with these high temperatures, it wasn’t uncommon for the house to make strange noises.
Penny dressed into her pajamas, yawned, and walked out of the bathroom. Another wooden floorboard creaked upstairs.
For a minute, all Penny’s age-old fears about burglars, kidnappers and rapists resurfaced. But then the voice of reason calmed her down. Maybe it was her mom, who’d already come home. The sound seemed to come from mom’s bedroom. Plus, not one self-respecting burglar would hope to find something of value in their tiny, run-down, dirty house.
Penny checked her cellphone. No new messages. Chelsea could’ve at least texted her that she got home safe and sound.
They should’ve been there by now. Or well, not if they’d stopped the car to make out somewhere.
The stairs looked particularly inviting tonight, and Penny longed to lie down and catch some sleep. She put a step on the bottom stairs, and froze at the spot when she heard another floorboard squeak upstairs, this time right above her head.
Penny sneaked up the stairs, staying as quiet as possible. She glanced into the darkened first floor hallway, past the crumbling wallpaper dangling off the walls. The room to her mom’s bedroom was closed.
Penny breathed out a sigh of relief. That door was always open, unless her mom was home. Seconds later, her mom’s familiar snoring greeted her from the bedroom.
Great job overreacting, crybaby.
Penny walked into her own bedroom, a tiny, cramped space where she could barely fit her bed, a closet and a desk in. Posters decorated the walls, Penny’s only protection from the old, salmon-colored wallpaper that drove her crazy whenever she started at it for too long. She closed the door behind her, not bothering to lock it.
Penny shot a quick glance through the window before she pulled the curtains close. The street was deserted, not a living soul in sight.
She crawled into bed, kicking off the covers. Before she’d very well closed her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.
Pleasant Dreams Page 17