Part IV

Although Jason was still beyond weary, a shower and a fresh set of clothes had done much to bolster his mood. It had been a while since he'd visited Higgins Haven, and although nothing much here ever changed, the desire to prowl about was still alluring. He'd settled Mommy down on an overstuffed chair, so she would be comfortable while he explored the quiet house.

His first stop on his self-guided tour was of course the Higgins girl's room. Even though she had not been here in quite some time-

Ever since that night…

-he felt drawn to that room like a moth to a flame. Predictably, it was exactly the same as it had been every other time he'd stopped by. Nothing in here ever seemed to change, it was as if this room stood frozen in time, down to the smallest detail. Apparently Chris's parents never came in here either on the rare occasion they had come back to the house

Since that night…

Jason frowned, wishing he could simply explore the room in peace without this critical inner voice tugging at his brain. Unlike Mommy's constant reassurances and helpful guidance, this condemning voice served only to make him feel bad. What was done, was done. It wasn't as if he could go back in time and change anything. If he'd learned anything over the years, it was this. Better to just let it go.

In an attempt to distract himself from his own disapproving inner monologue, he slid one of the long neglected drawers out. Everything just as she'd left it, albeit a little rumpled from his previous trips. The colorful cotton t-shirts were just as soft as ever to the touch, and he took a moment to paw through them, if only to reassure himself that they were indeed real. Hands moving almost unbidden, he reached for the top junk drawer, thoughtfully gazing on the hairbrush that still had dusty strands of her dark hair twined through the bristles.

He'd almost taken the brush several times before, but something had always stayed his hand just as he'd gone to shove it into the faded old green duffle bag he used to carry his hauls in. The whole thing was strange, really, he couldn't really rationalize why he'd wanted to take it. Obviously canned goods, linen and the occasional purloined shirt took precedence over some girl's used hairbrush, but he'd always wanted to take it regardless.

Well, now he would. If she had not returned for it or asked her parents to bring it to her by now, then she never would. Even if he had no real use for it, taking it was better than leaving it to sit forever in an unused bedroom. Why exactly, he did not know, but regardless, he would take it this time.
The brush felt almost warm in his hand as he continued to rifle through the drawers and their predictable contents. Soon he was down to the last one, the bottom left drawer containing a heavy photo album.

He flipped the cover open to look at familiar pictures, chronicling Chris's gradual advancement through childhood and adolescence. Several of the pictures were quite recognizable not only from repeatedly perusing the album, but because he could vaguely remember seeing her that day, dressed in the same outfits, sometimes even seeing the actual photo being taken. The more recent ones were the most familiar as he'd by then made it habit to drift through the area rather frequently.

Chris's soft, sweet smile taunted him from behind thin, clear plastic. She'd always been so pretty, and seemed so happy, so carefree -

Until you came along she was…

He slammed the scrapbook down in a mixture of anger and guilt. The urge to go out to the barn and take up an axe and chop her dresser to kindling was so strong that his hands shook, but instead he settled for ripping each drawer from it's track and dumping the contents he'd pawed so carefully through to the ground. Clothing flew about as he indulged in his tantrum, scattering shorts, sweaters and trinkets alike with heavy boots.

A pink sweater caught his eye, and he snatched it up.
Mommy's old one had been tainted by that terrible girl and her lies, so he'd left it crumpled in a heap outside of the shack, not bothering to retrieve it. She would need a new one. This one was just as soft and pretty as he remembered the old one to be, and hopefully she would be pleased with it. Jason did always try to make her happy, and if he were going to take the brush he might as well take the sweater along for her.

Now that he had calmed down he knew he should pick all Chris's things up and put them back into the drawers as they had been, but hunger was beginning to gnaw at him. What did it matter if he left it on the floor to be picked up later? It wasn't as if she would be walking through the door any second now. She was never coming back, that was apparent.

All thanks to him.

He turned his back on the aftermath of his little lapse in temper, resolving to straighten the mess up after he found something to eat. The pantry still had some canned goods he hadn't already taken, as it was always beyond well stocked. He would have needed a shopping cart instead of a duffle bag to completely clean out the larders, thanks to Mrs. Higgins's compulsive shopping and Mr. Higgins's insistence on always being prepared for anything.

Jason started out the door, but then stopped, with the realization that he was forgetting something. He sifted through the clothes on the floor before spotting the brush he'd flung earlier. After finally deciding to take it, he wasn't going to forget it that easily Now he could go ahead and venture to the kitchen in search of an easy meal, and afterwards he might lay down for a while. It wasn't as if he were in a hurry to go anywhere after all.