CHAPTER TEN: The Loss

I drove along the quiet road that led to House's. The golden autumn leaves glistened on mahogany branches before they gently floated down. A few children were out, jumping into piles of the gold splendors, laughing and playing. Some parents gathered about in the yards, the aroma of grilled hamburgers wafting through the air. 'Ah,' I thought. 'So peaceful.'

But something felt different about this Tuesday. I wasn't sure what it was, but something was unsettled inside me. And not the usual depression, it was something else. It made me shiver although it was a warm, dazzling day outside.

I parked my car near House's house. I got out but something was pulling me back. Something told me I shouldn't go inside, but sure enough, I was walking up the steps and ringing the doorbell.

Of course, Trinity answered. She looked like a mess. Her eyes were tired and worried, her shiny blonde hair disheveled. She still looked as beautiful as ever, though.

"Trinity? What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's House," she answered agitatedly. "He won't come out of his room. He hasn't been out for days. He won't take his medication, he won't do anything. I don't know what to do!"

My eyes lit with worry. "Wh-what? Why? What's going on?"

Her voice was filled with panic. "I have no idea. He hasn't told me anything. He's barely spoken since Thursday."

I walked into the room with hurried feet and immediately knocked on House's door.

An almost inaudible voice answered, "Go 'way."
"House, it's me, Chase. Please open the door."

"I said, 'Go 'way!'" He shouted back, but his voice was so small it sounded more like a whisper than a shout.

"Please, House. Tell us what's wrong," I pleaded, feeling like I was talking to a child. It was quiet on the other side of the wall. "Please."
"Chase, you come in," House finally said. I looked over at Trinity before entering the room.

House looked horrible. He hair was messed up, his leg was shaking, his body stretched out on his bed like I assumed it had been for days. But the most noticeable thing was his eyes. His incredibly blue irises were clouded by red. They were watery and drooping. He'd been crying. House. House was crying. This was more serious than I thought.

"H-House?" I stuttered. He said nothing, just stared with those clouded eyes. "Wh-what h-happened?"

"He's dead," House replied. "Wilson's dead."