Why do you build me up, buttercup, baby,
Just to let me down, and mess me around

The house that sat at the very end of Willow Street had been empty for as long as anyone could remember. The red trim, shutters, and door were peeling and the wood was slightly warped from years of rain, snow, and no care. The white siding was now a dirty off-white colour, with dark black and brown splashes and streaks down it. The black shingles on the roof were either half gone, or all out of place, and the roof had a terrible leak. The cement walkway was cracked something awful, and weeds were growing up from the dirt underneath. The small front porch, which was only about a foot or two wider than the door, and about five feet out, low enough to not need any steps, was falling in, and was warped as much as anything else, if not more. The covering of the porch had been blown over into the overgrown lawn, and the posts looked ready to follow in the next wind.

Inside, the house had one floor, with only a bathroom, three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a living room. The door opened up into the living room, which had dirty white walls, and only the sub floor; the carpet had been torn up and taken with the last people who had lived in the house, thirty years ago. It was a fair size, however, and had a big bay window, although the glass was cracked and layered in dirt and grime. The kitchen was small, with linoleum flooring in a black and white checkered pattern. It had a small area off to the side for a kitchen table, a few mouldy cupboards, and a very dirty counter top matching the floor. The sink had dead bugs and lots of green gunk inside it, and the pantry looked like a spider hotel. There was a small window by the sink, but no light fixture in the ceiling. Back through the living room, there was a hallway through a very thin doorway. The first room on the right was the small bathroom, with a disgustingly dirty toilet, small shower/bath, and a pedestal sink. There was no window in this room, nor a mirror, and as well there was only sub floor, which wouldn't be good for after-shower wetness. Right across from the bathroom was the master bedroom. Unlike the rest of the rooms in the house, this one had light blue walls, instead of white. It had dirty, fluffy pink carpeting, and a hideous pink and blue painted light fixture. The other two bedrooms, down the hall across from each other, were both very small, with dirty white walls, no closets, and warped hardwood flooring.

It was nearly ready to be condemned, so when a shiny white moving truck pulled up in front of the house, followed by a small green van, everyone was rather shocked. Who in their right minds would move into such a house?

The people in the car had the same thoughts. "It didn't look like this in the pictures," the pretty, brunette woman driving the van said, shock and unhappiness in her voice.

In the space of one day, nearly all the boxes had been unpacked. All the boxes that could be, however, since there was not many places to put things. The couch and recliner had been put in the living room, the same suede red as the giant floor rug that had been put down to protect the floor. As were a small wooden coffee table, and a small television atop a wooden stand not much bigger. The kitchen had a small, round, black table off to the side, and all the cabinets were coated with plastic, which was nailed in place, to keep the food and dishes disease-free. A glass cup filled with baking powder went in the fridge to soak out all the old smells in it, as well as one in the freezer.

The bathroom, too, had a large floor rug out to protect the floor – this one an off-white to match the walls, which were probably not off-white from the start. A dark purple shower curtain was up, and a large, square mirror was over the sink. A small basket was sitting beside the sink, full of hairbrushes and toothbrushes and toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, and other bathroom things.

The master bedroom had a closet full of clothes that looked too high class and expensive to ever be in such a house. A queen bed with floral bed sheets was in the corner of the room, beside it, a dresser, with even more clothes in it, and other items like makeup and perfumes atop it. Across from the bed was a long, oval standing mirror, with smoky purple scarves hanging off both sides. The walls were covered in family pictures – ones of two little blonde girls playing in the ocean, and a tiny black-haired baby in the hospital, and a dark-haired woman surrounded by the children, all smiling happily. School pictures and holiday photos and other family pictures were all crammed together in frames that did not match.

One of the smaller bedrooms had a small bed with cartoon animal print sheets, and many stuffed animals. A pink dresser stood in the corner, crammed with small girl clothes, and little dresses were laid out on top, since there was nowhere to hang them. There was a small mirror sitting on the floor, although it was meant to be hung, and it was surrounded by tubes of natural-colour lipstick and nearly empty perfume bottles and eyeshadow. Boxes crammed with dress-up clothes and more stuffed animals, and other toys, were sitting in the corner, beside an empty, pink, wooden toy box. On top of the toy box, in curly, girly, purple lettering, were the words "Julie's Toys".

The last room had two wooden plaques already nailed to the door. The top one was navy blue, and in bold, bottle green text it proclaimed "Monique". The one below was bottle green, with bold, navy blue words saying "Jocelyn". Inside, two single beds were squished up against the opposite smaller walls, each with sheets in a hot red. Two dressers stood in between the beds, barely fitting, crammed with more clothes than it was meant to hold. Like in Julie's room, some clothes were put on top of the dresser, but for the reason that they would not fit into the drawers. Piles of boxes were sitting beside the door, leaving very little spare space in the bedroom. The window had been thrown open to try and air out the stale place. All the house's windows were open.

Out in the back yard, four people were sitting on white, plastic lawn chairs, surveying the very small, fenced-off area, which was also in need of a bit of cutting. The grass came up past their ankles. If you were to look out the window at them, they would look just like any other lower class family out talking in the late evening sun, minus the upper class clothes they were wearing.

Mom was the tallest one, with flippy, curly chestnut hair, and calm brown eyes. Her face was wrinkled from age, but she still looked young and beautiful. She had thin lips covered in light pink lipstick, and blush on her cheeks. She was very thin, and wearing a white and yellow checkered sleeveless summer dress without shoes. A pair of round, black sunglasses were sitting on top of her head.

In front of her on the ground was a girl who looked a bit younger than five. She had long, straight black hair that fell to her ribcage, and huge, amber eyes. A smile was planted firmly on her thin face, as she sat in the grass in a light purple short-sleeved dress, and small, black sneakers. She was clutching a doll in her hands and looked perfectly content.

Across from her were two perfectly identical girls, with straight blonde hair and big eyes. The one on the left had blue eyes, where the one on the right had green. The one on the left had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and was wearing a flowing, white tank top, and a short jean skirt. She had on a pair of white sandals, and a bit of mascara and light lipstick. The other girl had her hair down and no makeup on. She was wearing a red and white three quarter sleeved shirt, and a pair of straight-legged, slim jeans. On her feet were a pair of cherry red sneakers. This was the only possible way to tell the fair-skinned girls apart.

"You know," the one in jeans said seriously to her mother, "it'll probably cost more to fix this place up than it would have to buy a new house. I mean, we're not exactly poor."

"Jocelyn, we're not made of money either," Mom said.

"Yeah, but this house is going to cost loads!" The other added. "I mean, dad left all his money when he jetted."

"And we'll spend it on making this the house of our dreams," she said forcefully, putting an end to the conversation.

"My dream house has a bigger kitchen," Jocelyn murmured to her twin. She giggled. Too loud, apparently.

"Jocelyn! Monique! No more about the house!" Mom scolded. Little Julie giggled.