Sitting in my chair, I dread the moment that he arrives. With crossed legs and a bitter grimace on my face, I think of the false smile I will soon have to wear. The creak of the front door rouses me from my stupor. "Come in!" I say with the sham of cheer in my voice. The two sets of footsteps cause me to sigh in relief. "Hello my Ellie" my mum says rounding the corner, the audible thud of my body colliding with my parents, initiating in a long hug.
"I missed you" I say muffled into my Dad's shoulder pulling away finally. Up close the dimples in my mum's cheeks are apparent as she smiles "where's your rascal of a brother?" Dad asks, I start towards the mug cabinet grabbing out three "he'll be here soon" the unwelcome words sliding of my tongue, the click of a latch sounds "Speak of the Devil" He says and I stifle a small whimper as the thing pretending to be my brother walks in, his dark fringe seemingly trying to hide his empty eyes with a flick of his head and sly smile it greets my mother and father, picking up a mug it fills it with hot water and I can see the froth from the coffee granules dissolving "so what did I miss" he says taking a sip as I see drip fall from his chin onto his tight fitting black nirvana top, I notice it seems forced the all to visible gulp, it doesn't seem real, but neither of my parents notice, why would they. Everything about him is wrong, Owen would never wear any of that.
He thought Nirvana was cliched and I've never seen him in anything but track pants or sports shorts and now he's wearing Chinos and Timberland shoes I can feel the disgust creep across my face
Then I catch it, his illusion drops for a second his gray skin cracked and dry… so dry it makes me shudder, He Flashes his teeth like he knows I've seen him my breath catches "am I going insane" I think.
Oh god they're leaving, why are they leaving "we'll leave you here to catch up with your brother without your parents breathing over your shoulders, I'm sure you have lots to talk about" my mother says giving me a goodbye hug but it feels like more of a death grip. As the sweat beads on my forehead and the journey up the steps the creak of their steps getting quieter as they round the corner to the door the whine of the hinges echo in my ears "Oh you have no Idea!" it shouts after them with inflection of joy but none of it shows on his face, click. The door shuts. I am alone with this monster. "So how is it that someone like you, cowering in fear and sweating rivers becomes a Grimm."