Kevin woke up to silence. He'd woken up on his own, no one had woken him up.
What time is it?
Kevin's watch was still in his room. It was a digital watch that spoke the time every hour. Without it, he had no way to tell what time it was. Getting out of bed, Kevin crept downstairs, cracking open the door with a quiet groan. He went to the bathroom, then got his watch from his room, discovering that his cane, a long white foldable cane with a strip of reflective red tape near the metal tip, was still collapsed and on the low shelf, and calling out revealed that Jeff wasn't in his bunk.
Going into the kitchen, Kevin walked to where he knew the TV was, carefully running his fingers over the Braille buttons, finding the power button and pressing it, hearing what sounded like a Christmas show about a drunk Santa. He sat on a stool, able to feel the emptiness of the house, an eerie feeling. Getting up, Kevin turned off the TV.
"Mom?"
When Kevin's calls went unanswered, Kevin began wandering the house.
"Hello-o!" he called. "Mom? Dad?" he found his parents' room. "Mom? Dad?" Kevin was beginning to feel anxious. "Where are you guys?"
"Buzz?" The only response was the skittering of Buzz's pet tarantula. "Buzz?" Kevin began to wander the room. "Buuuuzz!" Kevin called as his hand rested on Buzz's bedpost.
"Megan?" he called as he exited the room.
"Hello?" Kevin reluctantly made his way down to the basement. He hated the basement. It was junky, he tripped over everything, and the furnace made noises that made Kevin think of a growling monster ready to pounce and tear him limb from limb. "Hello-o! … Rod? Uncle Frank? Uncle Frank, is this a joke? … Megan, Linnie? Is this a joke?"
As Kevin listened for any response from his missing family, he heard the low growls of the furnace and gasped, freezing up. "Only my imagination… only my imagination…" he whispered to himself, but as the furnace got louder, he bolted, fleeing up the stairs in terror.
Kevin opened the front door, running through the snow, which soaked through his slippers and freezing his feet. Kevin was nervous outside without his cane. He knew what was in the house. He could probably navigate it asleep, but outside was unknown territory, even the front yard. He knew never what was there or what could hit him. Running up the driveway, Kevin reached the garage, holding his hands out, which met with the cars, fingers tracing the letters and numbers of the license plates, the only non-Braille numbers and letters he knew.
"The cars are still here!" Kevin said to himself. "They didn't go to the airport!"
Kevin made his way inside and back into the kitchen, sitting again on his stool, mulling over what was going on. Where was everyone? As Kevin thought, a possibility occurred to him and his nonfunctional eyes widened slightly.
"I made my family disappear!" Kevin said.
Kevin was sad at first. His family was gone. He was all alone. But then his family's cruel words flooded his mind.
"Kevin, you're completely helpless."
"You know Kevin, you're what the French call les incompetents."
"Kevin, I'm going to feed you to my tarantula."
"Kevin, you are such a disease!"
"There are fifteen people in this house, and you're the only one who has to make trouble!"
"Look what you did, you little jerk!"
Kevin's lips curled into a victorious smirk. "I made my family disappear…" he repeated, now smug.
Kevin went wild. He made popcorn and ate it while jumping on the bed, not caring that he was spilling kernels all over the bedsheets. Grinning, he let himself fall onto his back on the bed.
"I'm free-e-e!" Kevin yelled as he ran through the house, waving his arms above his head like a kid with ADHD who'd just pounded a pack of Pixie Stix. "Free! Free!"
He'd never been able to run like that; he'd always be yelled at to slow down. His parents were afraid he'd trip or run into something. The elation of the freedom hyped Kevin up more as he yelled and whooped. He didn't even slow down going up the stairs, even though the entire ascension his heart pounded, but he felt less scared than he had last time.
In Buzz's room, Kevin seated himself in front of his trunk, swinging it open, grinning to himself as he reached in and felt the items inside, finding a pile of magazines. Grabbing the topmost one, he opened it, but Kevin wasn't sure what he'd hoped to gain from it though. He wasn't even entirely sure if they made Braille magazines. Either way, Buzz certainly didn't own any, So Kevin didn't even know what was printed on the pages (probably a good thing tbh). Kevin tossed the magazine behind him before searching through the trunk again, finding something in a wrapper. Feeling it, Kevin felt several small cylinders with something sticking from the tops, like a candle wick, quickly realizing what they were.
"Cool! Firecrackers! I'll save these for later!" Kevi said to himself as he pocketed them before leaning back. "Buzz, I'm going through all your private stuff! You better come out and pound me!" he yelled before resuming his raid.
Kevin found a framed picture, but of course couldn't see what it was, so he just tossed it back into the trunk, hearing the sound of glass breaking, when a thought occurred to him. One of Buzz's most prized possessions was his BB gun. Neither Buzz nor their parents allowed Kevin to play with it, their parents forbidding Kevin to ever touch it. But they weren't here anymore, so Kevin began feeling the walls, hands exploring until one fell on the stock. Grinning victoriously, Kevin took the BB gun alone with a few of Buzz's lineup figures. He was pretty sure he wouldn't hit them, but it would still be fun to try.
Kevin delicately set the figures on the rim of the laundry chute (something else he wasn't allowed near, as if he'd seriously accidentally fall down that tiny hole), which was propped open with a plastic spatula. Kevin stood behind the counter, cocking the gun, and started shouting. True to his prediction, he didn't hit his mark. If his ears served him right, he hit mostly the wall, cracked a picture frame, and one of the BB's ricocheted off the wall and hit the counter (which he only knew for sure because the BB then bounced and hit his hand). He may have hit one figure, but he couldn't know for sure.
Right after that, Kevin helped himself to the junk food. He opened the freezer, a blast of cold air hitting him in the face. Pawing around through the contents of the freezer, hands landing on a tub. Popping off the top, Kevin stuck a finger into the treat inside, grimacing when the small digit sunk into the squishy Jell-O inside. It was Buzz's prized Jell-O, which Kevin hated. Tossing the tub behind him so that he wouldn't end up grabbing it again, Kevin resumed his hunt, finding another tub. Popping the lid, Kevin paused, then, like with the Jell-O, he stuck his finger inside, grinning to himself when he found his beloved ice cream. It didn't really matter what flavor, as long as it was ice cream, the only treat he wasn't overly picky about.
Putting the tub on the counter, Kevin put the Jell-O back, kicking the freezer shut as he opened the fridge. Feeling the bottles, Kevin grabbed one, flicking the cap back and squirting some of the liquid into his mouth, hoping to taste chocolate sauce, sputtering and spitting when the taste of French dressing filled his mouth and assaulting his tastebuds. Shoving it into the bowels of the fridge, Kevin kept searching. After repeating the process with ketchup and mayo, he finally found the coveted chocolate syrup. Thankfully, it was a lot easier to find the marshmallows, since they had a very identifiable texture when he gave the bag a small squeeze. Grabbing a spoon, Kevin began scooping chunks of ice cream into the biggest bowl he could find, filling the bowl before he drowned it in chocolate syrup and topped it all off with marshmallows (aka diabetes in a bowl). Bringing his treat into the living room, Kevin pushed the topmost VHS into the VCR, then sat down to listen to the TV.
The sound of knocking on a door.
"Who is it?"
"It's me. Snakes. I got the stuff."
"Leave it on that doorstep and get the hell out of here."
"All right, Johnny, but what about my money?"
"What money?"
"Acey said you had some dough for me."
"Is that a fact? How much do I owe ya?"
"Acey said ten percent."
"Too bad Acey ain't in charge no more."
Kevin leaned his head back. "Guys, I'm eating junk and watching rubbish! You better come out and stop me!"
"He'll call you when he gets out." There was a pause. "Hey. I'll tell you what I'm gonna give you, Snakes. I'm gonna give you to the count of 10 to get your ugly, yellow, no-good keister off my property… before I pump your guts full 'a' lead!"
Kevin gasped at the threat.
"All right, Johnny, I'm sorry. I'm going."
"One… two… ten!" loud gunshots burst from the speakers, making Kevin jump. The shots stopped, followed by a horrible wheezing, a dull thump, and the gunshots resumed. Kevin stuffed his fingers into his ears, which didn't help much. "Keep the change, ya filthy animal."
Kevin grabbed the remote and hit the pause button.
"Mom!"