House of the Banshee.
He struggled to pick a relevant facial expression as it was just so sudden. Menas Sundance, the new tenant, had just opened the door to find apparently his new neighbours. On his right stood Mrs. Larchwood with a bouquet of yellow carnations, and next to her was Maritima with a tray of frosted cookies. But _ it was only 8 am. Did they wake up in the dead of the night or was he missing something?
"Howdy neighbor." saluted Mrs. Larchwood, "Rise and shine."
Ah, a smile would be useful, and so he did. "Morning." he said as he removed his red dishwashing gloves. He'd look a bit mental if he took off the cherry-printed apron too. That stayed on.
"I brought you flowers. Yellow happens to be my favorite color, so I always enjoy expressing myself with it. I hope you like them."
"I also made cookies for you, just my family's way of welcoming you to the complex." Maritima added. "And don't overthink it. It only took me like 40 minutes to make them, and it was the best 40 minutes of my life."
Menas chuckled, "Thank you. I'm sure they're delicious." he took the tray on one hand and received the bouquet with the other. "I wish I had something to give to you. We're still new so -"
"Ah, don't worry about it. We're very cool." Mrs. Larchwood interrupted him, "Well, the flowers were just an excuse. I actually came to invite you and your daughter for dinner this Saturday. My daughter and I have perfected a yummy recipe, and we'd love for people to try." She sounded excited, "Oh, Maritima, you and your husband should come too. We'll have plenty for everybody."
"Wouldn't miss it." Maritima put a thumbs up.
Now all eyes were on Menas and his undecided brain. Their impatient stares impaled him. He had no choice but to nod, "We'll be there."
"Wonderful." Mrs. Larchwood clapped. She almost thought her invite was about to be declined. She surely wasn't in a mood to add a new name to her blacklist. She was a woman who always got what she wanted. "Before we go, is your daughter here? We'd love to say hello to her too."
"She's not here unfortunately. But I'll give her your regards."
"No wonder it's you washing the dishes. You know, if you need a maid tell me. I know where we can hire the best ones."
"I appreciate it."
He waited until the ladies left his pavement to close the door with a little shoulder bump since both his hands were occupied. He wobbled all the way to the kitchen, trying not to drop them. He passed by so many flower vases nicely arranged to complement the interior. Obviously another bouquet of flowers was the last thing he needed. When he got to the kitchen, he rested the tray and the flowers on the counter. He could still hear some chatters coming from outside. And when he peeped through the window, he saw Mrs. Larchwood and Maritima whispering things but laughing louder. His first thought was that the two got along pretty well. But _ he wasn't there to make friends.
He flew his hand near the bin's sensor and the bin's mouth opened wide. There was no hesitation when he dumped the carnations and all the cookies into it. He contemplated getting rid of the tray too, but it was an emerald-green stoneware tray, too pretty to dispose of. He knew she'd come back for it, so it was spared.
"Yellow carnations?" He huffed, "It's going to take more than that."
…
House of the Raven.
From the staircase, Mrs. Larchwood caught a sound of commotion coming from upstairs. It was familiar, but it's been a while since she heard it. Her steps increased, anger brewing like a witch's potion. It wasn't the first, second or third time. One would think she got used to it by then, but it didn't work like that. Every time it happened, her brain invented new ways of inflicting pain on somebody. Why was she being forced into upgraded viciousness unwillingly?
As she neared the door to her son's bedroom, the door fell open and a young maid rushed out, heading towards a different direction. Her adrenaline blinded her. She couldn't even see Mrs. Larchwood. Her focus was invested into holding her unzipped dress and unbuckled shoes together so as not to leave them behind. She knew if her boss found her trail of clothes from the son's door, her fate wouldn't be as dreamy as that of a princess.
Mrs. Larchwood watched her dash. She was dumber than the previous ones. But that wasn't her primary concern. She mentally counted to 10 before bursting into his room. The boy was between the sheets. His name was Ward Larchwood, 18 years old and a perfect definition of innerly rotten to the point of no return. Although covered, Mrs. Larchwood could still see the imprint of his unsatisfied buddy. He was the cause of her undying hypertension.
"You want to kill me, don't you?" she began by asking an easily perceived question, "Will you be able to handle the weight of my casket?"
"Come on, mom _"
"Look around you, Ward! This is our own house, but the floor is made of very thin ice. All because of you! What is actually wrong with you?"
"Maybe there's nothing wrong with me." He scoffed, bothered by no single thing. "Maybe if you start treating me like a normal teenager, you'll all feel better. The problem is you guys view me as abnormal."
"You are abnormal!"
"I'm just a horny boy, mom. Nothing wrong with that."
"How many more maids should I fire because of you? How many more schools should I pour my money into so that you can get a chance to graduate? How many more lives are you going to destroy? Your father is a judge. Your sister is an attorney. Cairo is just a college freshman, but I'm sure she'll do better than you. You understand what I'm saying? We're a family of triumph, not sextape creators. We don't fuck every person we see. We know where the line is, and we never cross it. You are an embarrassment!"
"Gee, thanks mom."
"Can you shut the fuck up? Until when am I supposed to protect you? My arms are tired from shielding your ungrateful ass. Change. Be better. Be fucking better. You owe your family that. We're all here because of you. Cleanse yourself. We're sick and tired of you!"
"It's too late for me to change now. I'd rather die."
"Then please do. You'll be doing us a huge favor."
Mrs. Larchwood stormed out of the room, battling her tears. The day Ward was conceived was the day she greatly detested. If she knew how he'd turn out to be, she'd have used that day to count a gallon of sand instead, one grain after the other.
Ward got out of his bed to go lock the door. From his gaming seat, he grabbed a camera that he'd set to record a tape with the maid, a tape that was now half sex, half lecture from his hateful mother. He connected the SD card to the computer system and started watching it to see if he could salvage any worthy, editable, and postable piece. He cussed his mom for ruining what was supposed to be a masterpiece. Now he didn't even know if it was worth his time. Nothing aroused him. Or maybe the maid wasn't hot enough.
He needed a new girl, someone oozing sexiness. Not too young or too old. He needed someone who would drive his subscribers crazy. But where could he find a girl like that? He knew every resident, but no one recently struck him as fuckable. If only he could find that kind of girl.
***