A/N: Hello, everyone! This is another addition to the AHIC stories. I believe that Jonah and Matt do not get enough love. Its tragic, really. I mean, that was such an awesome movie. Ah, well. This is kind of based after the movie. A year, actually. Not like the other ones, where the plot is changed. In the movie they said: 'the house was re-build and a family moved it', well, this is kind of like that. Don't worry, there will be Jonah andMatt. If your wondering how, you'll have to wait until the next chapter.
Well, kudos to those who wrote a HIC (ha, ha! Hic!) fic! Hey, that rhymes!
Too Bright To See, Too Loud To Hear
Chapter One: The Big Move
September 1st, 1988.
An old, plum man stood in front of the newly built Aickman house. His long, tanned finger swiped across his upper lip. The man tugged on his belt, letting his eyes trail up the house. It looked like it had before- only newer. It was still a very unpleasant house. It ran off two families- the first of which burnt it down.
Even though the house had been re-build, somehow, the eerie that you were being watched was still there.
"Barnaby? You ready?", a voice called from the sewer.
Barnaby gave a shuttering glance at the house. "Yeah, mate. Just need to wait 'till the damn oaf gets 'ere."
The man in the sewer jumped up. "Damn. Bloody anorak! All 'e 'ad to do was send his mate to us. We would 'a fixed it and Bob's your uncle! Would a' been 'ome right now."
Barnaby chuckled, "he's a little off 'is trolley, 'e is."
The other man sat down on the curb. "Gonna be aggro, soon. I can see a barney comin'."
Barnaby nodded, "best be getting in there."
The man rose to his feet. His shaggy blond hair falling around his face. "Count 'a three, ya naff prat."
Barnaby got down, lowering himself down into the sewer. "S'no light."
The man waved his hand, "so what, ya blooming wanker."
"I can't see. I need a light." Barnaby shouted up.
The man tossed down a flashlight. "'Ere go."
Barnaby looked around the dirty old sewer. People were complaining that a young man was trapped inside. They alerted the police when they had seen him. In Barnaby's opinion, it was ruddy garbage. You would not be able to make out a figure of a person at the speed limit of sixty.
Of course, the reporters had been jumping at the chance to write something different about the Aickman house. Barnaby shoved his damp hair out of his eyes, peering all over. He wasn't really looking for a kid. Barnaby and Micheal were mostly there to tell their manager that they did something about it. It was all because they wanted extra pay.
"'Ello? Anyone down 'ere?", Barnaby called, flashing the light in the corner.
Barnaby took a cautious step forward. Jumping back as his covered foot stepped on something hard.
Curiosity etched on his face. "What's this, then?".
A small piece of a grayed object laid at the bottom of his foot. Barnaby gentility picked up the object. He held it to the light, a small crease beginning to form in between his eye brows. The object was a gray and very smooth. It was charred around the edges, and indented where the hole was.
It took Barnaby a moment before he realized that it was a piece of a skull. The skull was an eye that stretched over to the temple and was charred an inch below the eye socket. Barnaby shoved the bone into his pocket, and walked towards the ladder.
"Micheal, you'll never guess what I just found!".
September 28th, 1988.
This was our 'new beginning' as my mother had put it. We we currently moving from Georgia to Connecticut for my mother to begin her work as an author. Her publisher had insured her that a house was set up for us to move in. The house was large, Mrs. Levin said. Surrounded by a long road and trees. The perfect place for a single mother to write in privet.
My mother was hanging on to Mrs. Levin's every word. We packed up the very next day, and headed off to Connecticut. Mrs. Levin also warned us that a family stops by whenever they can. I didn't know why; but I felt as if Mrs. Levin was leaving something out. She told us the family had experienced something horrible, well, the son who was my age, had experienced it. Matthew Campbell, I believe his name was.
"Oh, look at the trees. I can't wait until we get there." My mother broke the two hour silence.
I blinked, "yeah. Pretty. Than again, so was Georgia."
My mother huffed, choosing to ignore my comment. "The move will be good for us."
I nodded absentmindedly. I didn't really care if it was good for us- I just felt as if Mrs. Levin had left something important out. The description, the praise, the way she paid for everything- it was too perfect. I turned on the ancient radio. "Rites of Spring" flowed through the old car.
I laid my head down on the window, watching the trees blur by. It was a big change going from Georgia to Connecticut. My mother was an adapter, she could move to Alaska and not be affected. Where as I, I am more of a 'one-place' person.
I like settling down in one place and staying there.
"Julian, I know that this is a big change," my mother reasoned. "A huge one. I-I can sense that this is going to be a wonderful move. We'll be happy."
I nodded my head against the window. "Yeah, I guess."
I mother reached for my hand, "go to sleep. I'll wake you when we get there."
"Alright." I whispered, my eyes dropping heavily.
Before anything else could have been exchanged, I fell asleep.
xx
I woke up some-odd hours later. We had just entered into Connecticut, and my mother was beaming. I yawned loudly, glancing outside. It was dark outside. Very dark. I could not see a thing.
"When will we be there?", I questioned, rubbing my eyes.
My mother glanced at me quickly. "Very soon. In fact, I think this is it."
We pulled up to an odd looking house. It was a two story with many trees covering it. My mother drove into the rocky drive way. The house was very nice. It had a newly built charm to it, and looked ancient. It was a simple brown shade, and the porch was white. I couldn't see much else from the dark; but I did notice Mrs. Levin's small frame peering into the window.
My mother honked the horn, startling Mrs. Levin. "Would you like to stay in the car?".
"Yeah." I whispered.
My mother got out, leaving me sitting in the old car. I chewed on my bottom lip, watching my mother jog up to meet her publisher and 'friend'. I turned to the radio, watching it glow through the darkness. A soft tune played from the radio station- a station that was not the one mother and I were listening to. I pushed the old, rusted button on the ancient radio, turning It back to the other station.
My mother and Mrs. Levin waved me over. I pushed the door open roughly, accidentally cutting my finger on the old handle. I hissed lightly, raising the finger to my mouth. I pulled my finger away and walking towards the house. Mrs. Levin was unlocking the door. My mother gripped my hand as I walked up to her.
"Why don't you go look around for you bedroom? Upstairs, I believe." Mrs. Levin smiled, her eyes narrowing.
I nodded, "sure."
I walked through the house. It did look nice. The entrance to the house was painted white with a brown boarder. The kitchen was white with brown cupboards, the living room had light brown furniture with a small telly. I turned away from the living room, walking towards the stairs. Looking up, it resembled a square. Bedrooms were on each side. I believe it was a washroom on the right, with a bedroom and something else. And on the left, a two bedrooms and a washroom.
I walked into the first room. It had a nice blue rose print on the walls. A mirror facing the door, a simple white sheeted bed with a dresser next to the window. I walked out of the room, venturing across the hall to the next room on the left side. I walked into the first bedroom. It was painted with white walls, a bed in the corner near the square-cut window. A white dresser placed next to the bed, supporting a mirror and a lamp. A closet, with the doors open wide, was facing the bed. Down from the window, there was another white dresser, only it was taller than the other one. Beside the dresser was another closet with the doors closed and a full-body mirror attached.
"This one is my room." I declared, dropping my bag on the floor.
It was strange. I know for a fact that I wouldn't openly pick a room without checking out the others. For some reason, I just wanted to have this room.
"Honey, have you picked one yet?", My mother called from room across the hall.
Or rather, up the hall, down the wall with the big window, and down the hall once more.
I looked around the room once more. "Yes!".
"Okay, dear-y. We'll be bringing your things up tomorrow!", Mrs. Levin called.
I walked towards the bed, moving my hand around the rough, white covers. I could tell they were old and had been washed quite a bit. I sat down on the bed, looking around the room once more.
I defiantly think that this room picked me.
xx
A/N: That was the first chapter of TLTH,TBTS. Jonah's skull washed down the sewer, and the man found it. Uh-oh! The next chapter will be posted very soon, I reckon. Jonah will be coming very soon, too. Of course, Matt will be there first! (I reckon...?) Ahem, anyways. Er, this is the end, and please review.
