Disclaimer: I don't own DP or "The World is Too Much With Us" by William Wordsworth.


Glimpses That Would Make Me Less Forlorn

The Fenton family home has a bright, flashing neon sign that says "FentonWorks" on the outside wall. There is a big metal saucer that turns into a blimp with my father's face on it mounted on the roof. The living room is full of my father's crocheted pillow covers and decorative throws. The kitchen is home to the remains of various disastrous meals that have returned to life. The smell never really comes out. Even worse, the entire house smells like ectoplasm, like standing water frozen over and rotting plants and harsh chemicals. The smell is strongest in the basement, where my parents have managed to tear a hole in space/time.

The bedrooms are fairly tame in comparison. The master bedroom has a closet full of identical orange and teal Haz-Mat suits, and I know that Mom and Dad sleep with ecto-guns under their pillows. My brother's room has NASA posters on the walls, and model airplanes and space shuttles on every available surface. The amount of surface available has decreased over the last few years, more so every time Danny fights a new and particularly dangerous enemy. These days, he's more likely to have ghost files, blueprints and a partially-dismantled ghost weapon or four on the desk and floor than an airplane model. I got him a model SR-71 Blackbird for his birthday. He put it on a shelf, and it's been gathering dust ever since.

I finally moved out a few months ago. I dragged my feet for as long as I could, dreading the day I had to leave. In the end, I left everything except my books, my laptop and my Bearbert Einstein. Everyone was so surprised when I made the announcement, as it wasn't like me to procrastinate. I always plan as far ahead as possible, and prepare for everything. One person thought I had planned the whole thing months in advance, as his big sister nearly always did. One person thought I had been planning at least since the start of the summer, because it was the sensible thing to do. One person knew better, but this time, he wasn't talking.

I'm only home on a visit, a few days off in the middle of the week to visit my family, since my professors know they can trust me to make up any missed work. As strange as this place is, I've missed it. My room has been empty, left untouched except to vacuum the worst of the dust out. I'd been certain it would have been taken over for storage by now, but apparently my family wants me to have a place to stay. I'm glad. This place isn't quite home anymore, but it will always be a sanctuary.

Now my room is empty, waiting for another little girl to find it.


A/N: Takes place on the morning of October 31st, 2007, just before FL starts.

Part III may show up after FL and CP, as a wrap-up and lead-in to TWiC.