*SIGH*

Wendy Corduroy sighed in discontent as she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Once she was inside the fully furnished, yet highly secluded cabin in the Gravity Falls woods, she exhaled in relief. Pressed against the now-locked door, she raised her emerald eyes to examine the slightly dimmed room.

There was not a soul around. More specifically, there wasn't anyone there to welcome her home after a long, exhausting day of work.

"Okay…" she admitted to herself. "Perhaps I'm laying it on a bit too thick…" After all, Wendy was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that she wasn't the hardest-working girl out there, but at the same time, it would be kind of nice to get the same type of reception at her own home that she received at work.

Her mind flashed back to only a few moments before, as she left her late-night shift at the Mystery Shack; of how her friend and co-worker Mabel Pines tightly hugged her waist with affection before bidding her goodnight; or in which Mabel's twin brother Dipper bid the same, with a painfully-shy wave and dimpled smile, but yet, would make sure to personally escort her out every night, waiting at the edge of the woods until she faded from sight, as a sort of protecting her from the oddities and freaks that plagued the small, mountain town (or so he claimed…). Heck, the handyman, Soos would occasionally check in with her to see how her day was going, and even the Shack's owner, Stan Pines, would stop to say hello or bye as long as he wasn't in a cranky mood.

Wendy returned her sights to the empty room in front of her. She wondered to herself, "If such things are the norm for complete strangers, is it really asking much to expect the same from my own family?"

Seemingly depressed, Wendy slid off her purposely-oversized lumberjack boots and left them neatly by the entrance. The cool, wooden flooring felt miraculous on her swollen, stocking soles. Wendy was only able to take a few steps before that feeling of disgust jabbed her in the gut once more.

The entire front room was completely trashed! The television was left on; its warming glow briefly illuminated the parlor in random flashes. At the couch, three TV-trays were left unhinged, each covered in sticky, yet hardened food. Cups filled with half-drank beverages adorned each platform. To make matters worse, random, discarded piles of clothing decorated the comfy loveseat. Wendy didn't even have to approach them to realize that they were dirty; she could smell the reek even from her distance. She could only shake her head in dismay, figuring that this was a consequence of living with four boys (counting the unsanitary habits of her father into the mix).

Holding her breath, Wendy quickly swooped up the soiled clothing and rushed into the bathroom. She threw the clothing into the nearby hamper, and slammed the top shut, in hopes of removing the dreaded funk from the atmosphere. Returning to the mess at hand, Wendy turned off the TV, and began to gather the drinks from the trays. With her arms full, the gingered teen started to head into the kitchen. As she did so, Wendy asked herself, "How did she put up with all this?"

Wendy stopped in her tracks when she noticed a light stemming from the next room. As she listened on, Wendy could make out the sound of different voices laughing in absolute glee. Tip-toeing in her socked feet, the lanky girl peered into the kitchen to see where the commotion was about.

She watched as her three mischievous younger brothers proceeded to have a massive food fight throughout the length of the kitchen. Wendy looked on in horror and aggravation as ice cream was splattered throughout the entire room! The three Corduroy brothers hopped from chair to table to counters in a massive chase to coat each other in dairy products. After a few moments, Wendy finally decided she had seen enough.

"JUST WHAT DO YOU THREE THINK YOU'RE DOING?! WHY AREN'T YOU IN BED?!"

All three boys gasped in shock as they stopped in mid-step.

"Oh, crap! Busted"

"I thought she was already home? Wasn't she asleep upstairs?"

The third boy turned and stared his sister straight in the eyes.

"Umm…it wasn't us?"

Wendy let out her frustrations immediately, "What's the matter with you three?! Are you guys INSANE?! Do you know how long it's only to take me to clean this mess up?!"

The eldest boy crossed his arms, rolled his eyes, and scoffed, "Sorry, Mom…"

With that last snide comment, Wendy instantly saw red. She pointed upwards and bellowed,

"BED! NOW!"

Seeing the pure rage in their sister's demeanor, the three boys fearfully ran out of the room without as much as a second glance. As soon as the area was cleared, the stressed freckled faced girl let out another moan of misery. She hated what had to do, but what else could be done? As if by second nature, she set down the dirty cups by the sink, and dropped to her knees. She threw open the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out her "trusty tools:" a half-filled bottle of cleaner and several worn-out rags.

With the velocity of a ninja, Wendy proceeded to wipe down the kitchen walls, floors, and table coated in gooey dessert. As she scrubbed away as the vivid mess, her anger only grew. Why did she always get stuck with cleaning up these disasters? Because she was the only girl in the house? "No…" Wendy reassured herself. "…it's because if I didn't do it, no one else would."

Granted, she was used to doing monotonous, repetitive chores due to her job at the Mystery Shack, but at the same time, she was being paid to do so! At home, she was left to do all of these endless tasks without as much as a simple "thank you."

In truth, Wendy wasn't really upset about the mess as much as she was the ignorant comment that her younger brother uttered to her. How dare he call her that name, as if it was some sort of insult! Wendy understood that her brothers were handicapped by their youth; of how they probably didn't remember how great everything used to be. Still, this was no excuse to slight her like that…

After she finished with the kitchen, Wendy went back into the front room and wiped down the still-sticky trays. She proceeded to fold each platter up, sliding them back into the stand hoisted against the wall. She head back into the kitchen and threw the cleaning supplies back under the counter. Wendy took the dirty tableware and loaded them into the dishwasher. She turned the machine on, figuring to herself, "Hey, I'm cleaning them; the least they can do is put them away!" After a moment, she heaved upon the realization that there was little to no chance of that actually happening.

Upon finishing, Wendy felt her stomach rumble. Cleaning up all of the excess food gave the exhausted teenager the munchies. Playfully sliding on her socks across the laminated floor, Wendy opened the refrigerator door to see what she could make for a late-night dinner. As she explored the confines of the icebox, Wendy discovered that her family had maintained the status quo: they didn't even leave her a plate of leftovers. For this, she figured a quick sandwich would be the way to go. She also reached for the last Pitt Cola, but after remembering that she had work early the next day, decided to get a glass of milk instead.

After making herself a double-decker filled with various meats, veggies, and dripping with nearly every condiment known to man, Wendy stopped the dishwasher, threw in her used utensils, and restarted the machine. Pleased with her fixings, Wendy used a free finger to shut off the light and headed towards the staircase leading to the second floor.

Upon coming to the nearest door, Wendy could see a light creeping out from behind the wooden door. Placing her ear against the frame, she could hear the various degrees of rowdy, childish laughter once again. Lacking a free hand, Wendy kicked a socked foot against the entry.

"GET TO BED!"

Within a split second, Wendy could hear the sounds of things being shuffled, responding with the light inside the room being shut off. After listening to nothing but complete silence for a few moments, Wendy contently went on her way.

The next room she passed echoed a different, yet strange sound. Static garbles seemed to fill the nighttime air. Wendy stepped into the room to see her father fast asleep in his recliner. His epic snoring was blanketed by the sound of the TV being set on a channel without broadcast. Wendy set down her plates on the nearby nightstand, and glared down about her father.

Her dad was none other than Manly Dan, infamous lumberjack and strongman of Gravity Falls legend. All men wanted to be him, and those same people also feared him tremendously. As Wendy viewed over the burly man fast asleep before her, Wendy presumed that he must have passed out in front of the TV due to a long day of work, as well an equally-lengthy night of hanging out at the Skull Fracture. Still, she remembered how he had a natural sweetness hidden within that heated, muscular frame; something that her brothers severely lacked. However, those rare instances have been few and far behind in recent times. Maybe, just maybe, he was just as distraught about missing her as she was…

Wendy went over to the bed and took a blanket from it. Carefully, he placed around her dad's shoulders, letting it drape over him. Taking another step forward, Wendy bent down and kissed her father's forehead, wishing him good night. Involuntarily, Manly Dan let out a fumed groan and shrugged his daughter away from his side. He instantaneously returned to his heavy slumber. Heartbroken, but definitely not surprised, Wendy retrieved her dinner, and sulked out of the room.

As Wendy was about to enter her bedroom, she looked across at the now-abandoned room across from hers. A sense of nostalgia filled the lanky teen as memories flowed through her mind. After all, that was her hobby room, where she could do almost anything! Wendy would sit and watch as she knitted, painted, sculpted, played music from nearly any instrument given to her; all this amongst other things! Thinking about such an amazing person made Wendy smile deeply. She went to head towards the door, in a naïve attempt to relive some of the most treasured moments in her life.

A second later, Wendy stopped in her tracks. "What am I doing?" she asked herself. Every time she did this, she only ended more depressed and flustered than before. She wondered why she kept doing this to herself, as if revisiting old times was going to change the past in any way. Defeated, Wendy went back towards her room and used a knee to open her door.

Despite being in the total darkness, Wendy was easily able to navigate through the room via her memory. Placing her food on the wooden desk positioned against the wall, Wendy used a free hand to turn on the light. With a flick of her wrist, Wendy took off her trademark trapper hat and perfectly threw it towards her bed's upper-right post, landing the shot with one attempt. Wendy raised her hand in victory, coupling it with a whispered, "YES!" She pulled out her soft, black roller chair and sat down, leaning back and placing her feet on her desk. Wendy reached down, grabbed the latest issue of Indie Fuzz from its hiding place under the desk, and began to read the magazine from top to bottom (taking various bites and sips between paragraphs).

After she was finished with her meal, Wendy pushed the plate and glass against the far end of the desk (to ensure she didn't accidentally knock them over during her usual morning "oh-no-I'm-running-late" rush). She looked at the clock mounted firmly on her wall, seeing that she HAD to get to bed soon, or else, she would be more zombified at work than usual.

Placing the magazine on the desk, Wendy stood up, raised her arms, and yawned. She reached down and shut her desk lamp off for the night. Feeling too lazy to get changed, Wendy opted to sleep in her regular clothes tonight. She sat on the bed and pulled off her socks. Wendy also hit the switch on the mini-fan placed on her nightstand, knowing that her room becomes incredibly hot, especially during the middle of summer. For this, she decided to sleep above the covers, instead spreading a thin comforter across her midsection.

As she started to drift onwards into sleep, Wendy couldn't help but recall her recent thoughts. She turned towards her window, where she focused her gaze into the bright, starry sky. Wendy closed her green eyes, with an impossible hope in her heart:

"If only things could be different…if only…I would do anything…"