Notes: We finally just start to get into the main plot in chapter three!
...Ah, sorry for the dely, if anyone (though I'm not sure exactly how many) was waiting... I just figured out how to see just how many people have actually read this. Before I found out, I actually thought that pretty much no one was interested in this fanfic and gave up hope... But now I know! :) Thank you so, so much to everyone reading! It makes my heart explode with joy! Haha! Anyway, on with the story!
"How the bloody heck do you just hit someone with a wrench?"
"…I dunno… reflexes…? He was just… not there, and then there… It caught me off guard, bro…"
I finally regained consciousness when the thickly accented voice began screaming.
Mentally, I mean. Physically, I had been awake the whole time, but half my brain shut down when that hunk of metal collided with my face. Though I was somehow able to remember what happened.
After I got pelted (which, thankfully, I wasn't hit by the biggest wrench invented, but most definitely not the smallest) my nose started bleeding… a lot. Now, like I said, half of my brain shut down, so I just dumbly stood there, very, very slowly raising an arm to cover my nose. The guy across from me chuckled nervously, pushing up his glasses which had slipped when he whipped that wrench at me…
Or, as I took note as I blankly stood there, he had chucked the wrench at the roof of the car, but it had somehow bounced off with enough force to hit my face really hard. I had a feeling the owner of the car wasn't going to be too happy when they saw the deep dent in the roof. Unless, of course, it was glasses man's car. He didn't seem to mind too much.
Finally, after about a minute of some real awkward silence, glasses man led me inside, apologizing once. I stumbled along, unable to respond. I think the part of my brain that carries out functions was temporarily damaged. He led me up some stairs, down a long hallway with various doors, and into a bathroom near the end of the hall. He opened a drawer and handed me a box of tissues, in which I gratefully accepted. My arm was starting to look like someone had stabbed it.
After about thirty seconds, he told me that he'd "be right back, going to tell Artie something". And thus, a few seconds later, a very British voice cried out, snapping me out of my daze and returning my senses back to me. The two talked in a quieter tone for a quick minute, before "Artie" said something sternly to glasses man and slammed the door to his room in his face.
Mr. Glasses (in case you haven't realized it yet, no one in my family wears glasses, nor does Ron, so it's not odd for me to take notice of people wearing spectacles) walked back to me, and leaned against the door frame, not at all looking angry… He was actually smirking a little. I hoped that was a good sign.
"How ya faring?" Okay, he seemed nice. I trusted him.
"My nose hurts like heck, but, somehow, I don't think anything's brok-"
"Oh yeah!" He sounded like he just remembered something. "My name's Alfred Jones!" He stopped leaning against the door frame and his grin grew. "I'm the world's HERO!" He gave me a thumbs up. I couldn't help but smile too.
"Erin… Erin Renster… Uh… I'm the world's hermit… I guess…" Alfred laughed a bit at that, for some reason. Some more silence followed before Alfred spoke up again. His tone was a bit more serious, but still happy and playful.
"So what the freakin' heck were you doing hiding behind the car at this time of night?"
Oh shoot. I had hoped greatly that this wouldn't be brought up… Then again, why wouldn't it. I mean, when there's some creeper kid behind your car long after dusk… I figured what I did was pretty suspicious… But my story was so ridiculous… But I might have caused more problems if I refused to answer… And I had to answer decently quick if I didn't want to look more suspicious than I already did…
"I-I was walking… But then I tried to climb down a ledge, and I slipped…" I was going to leave the talking fungus and the fairy out of this. "I-I guess it impacted my sense of direction… Because the next thing I knew, I was lost…" In which I probably wouldn't have been if it wasn't for the dang fairy. "Then I found this place… But there was a family reunion going on…"
"Family reunion?" Alfred snorted.
Oh shoot. Did I really just say that out loud? Yes. Yes I did. Dang it… I've always had a problem with just spouting assumptions. I really needed to stop that habit. Now I felt stupid. Thankfully, Alfred seemed to sense the fact that I'm not the brightest person out there.
"Nooo worries!" He laughed. "I guess there were a lot of cars… Is that why you thought that? Anyway, that was a meeting… at my place." He motioned around.
Oh! That must've meant that bellowing man didn't live here! Thank goodness!
…Or, at least he didn't own the place. Did Alfred live here alone? Cleaning the place must suck…
"Do you live here alone…? Or are you married… Or…"
"First one's about as close as you can get…" He shrugged. "I dunno… I've got other houses around the country…" Wait… This mansion wasn't his only house…? I had been taken in by a millionaire! "Anyway, I've never been married and probably never will be!" Huh. Interesting. I would have thought that he would be the type to attract girls in a heartbeat. Maybe he just didn't want a love life. Who knew? It was none of my business, so I dropped the thought of asking.
"Oh, and I'll have you know that I ain't related to anyone who came!" Nice English, there buddy. He stretched, and I tossed what I hoped was my last tissue that I'd need. My nose was still stinging greatly and it was hard to breathe through, but at least the blood was done with.
"Think you'll be fine for the night?" I nodded. "In that case…" He turned around and began to walk away. "I'm going to hit the hay. You can sleep in the closest room to your right… If ya here anything in the mornin' it's probably just some of the guests leaving. Ignore it." So, he wasn't going to ask how my story ended? Guess not… Of course, I wasn't complaining!
"Oh by the way…" Alfred called down from far down the hallway. "I'm not sure if you're like Francypants, but you look like you got plowed over by a freaking tank!"
…Did I really look that bad? I didn't know. There were no mirrors in here.
Oh wait, yes there was. It was on the back of the door. I was full length too; so I could admire my gorgeous appearance all at once. Please take note of the extreme amount of sarcasm in that last part if you haven't already. I looked worse than being run over by a tank. I looked like the living dead.
Blood was all down the arm I had first used as a tissue, and all over my –conveniently white- shirt. My face was a whole different story. The bridge of my nose was real swollen and a disgusting shade of purple. It was gross. Then there as the fact of my clothes… Dirt streaked every piece of fabric and caked my shoes- Ah, dang it! I had been clomping around this millionaire's house (Seriously, why didn't I know this guy lived here before? When did he start living here?) in dirty shoes… I hoped that he didn't mind, but even so, I took them off and tried to scrape a decent amount of dirt off them into the trash bin. I then proceeded to wash all the grime off my being… or most of it, anyway. Anything that wasn't clothed got a good scrubbing.
I was about to wash my shirt when my second wind suddenly left me and was replaced with the biggest urge to curl up and go to sleep on the floor. I decided to finish up tomorrow.
I picked up my shoes and slid into my given room. (And, yes, I slid. My feet didn't leave the floor once –even though "my" room was all carpeted.) I flopped on to the bed, and, as impossible as I once thought it was I am almost certain that I was out the exact moment my head came in contact with the pillow.
I drowsily opened my eyes. Sunlight seeped through the pale blue curtains a few inches from the end of my bed, illuminating the whole room. I remembered where I was immediately. My brain can adapt in that way for some reason. I also have a tendency to remember other people's houses as well as my own, as creepy as that sounds. I don't know how or why, but I can.
Three sharp knocks repelled through my door. Huh. What convenient timing.
Must be Alfred…
"Come…" My voice croaked with tiredness. I sounded possessed. I cleared my throat and tried again. I sat up as the door opened.
"It's about time you were up." Whoops. Wrong assumption (again). It was Artie the Brit. I could tell by his voice. Why was he here? I would've thought that Alfred of anyone would be the first to see me and… Oh my…
My thoughts were interrupted by the fact that Mr. Artie looked nothing like I had imagined him to. For whatever reason –probably the accent- I had imagined him to have the stereotypical "pinkies up", fancy-dressed, molecule type of appearance. I couldn't have been more wrong.
…Actually, yes I could have been, but, whatever. The point was that he didn't look like what I had expected him to.
He was dressed pretty casual, in a jade green shirt (with some sort of black design across the chest) and jeans. I figured that he wasn't a natural blonde, seeing as those giant caterpillar brows of his hardly matched. Either that or his genetic code was seriously screwed up. His hair was pretty darn messy too…
Since when did I start sounding like my nit-pick granny?
"I guess introductions would be a good place to start. I'm Arthur Kirkland." He wasn't half as enthusiastic or joyful as Alfred. I was even pretty sure I saw a hint of a scowl when I looked up at him. I hoped for my dear little life that he wasn't the reason that I hid behind the car. Of course, he didn't sound like the bellowing man, but still… I shook his outstretched hand anyway, standing up and introducing myself.
"I'll be the one getting you home, seeing as that twit just up and left with the rest of them, leaving me a note and the keys to his bloody spare car." He didn't sound happy at all. Then again, would I if I was supposed to take some creeper kid that my acquaintance hit with a wrench home? Well, even if I was, I wouldn't show it… Unless, you know, they were stealing things, or stuff like that…
Arthur folded his arms across his chest and sighed, muttering something about being thankful at that, even. He eyed me for a quick second before leaving the room. I wondered if I should follow him, but he was back before I could make any moves. He tossed me a crimson shirt telling me (though it sounded more like commanding) to change and meet him at the front door. I did so, throwing my other shirt in a nearby trash bin. I highly doubted that I'd ever wear it again with that many stains… Actually I might have… If it weren't for the fact that a majority of the stains were blood and, as un-manly as this sounds (though I hardly consider myself a manly man anymore), that was gross.
Arthur was waiting for me, suitcase in hand, when I dashed down the stairs, carrying my shoes. (Like I said, my memory's amazing when it comes to other people's houses.)
As I laced up by the door, I began to take note of all the filth. Perhaps it was the fact that I didn't expect a millionaire to have such an unkempt place, or the fact that it was a lot easier to see once my brain was functioning properly again... Probably a mixture of both. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm far from the cleanliest person in the world, but… there had to be at least fifty wrappers in that corner over there… and that was just part of it…
Arthur read my thoughts and snorted. "Disgusting; I know."
When I was done tying my pretty bows, I bounded out the door, Arthur following briskly behind. I noticed that there were only two cars parked now, one of them being the dented one. Judging by the glares he was giving it, I presumed it belonged to Kirkland.
We got in the car, and, with my weak instruction, headed off in the opposite direction that I had walked in. No questions were asked as we rolled along, and I was thankful for that, but the silence was really awkward. Like, way worse than the awkward silence the night before. There wasn't even any background music… Due to the fact that Arthur seemed to hate pop. (Some sort of techno song blared as soon as the engine started up and he quickly shut it off, looking pissed.)
I was pretty thankful when we reached my house. (I didn't know how long it took and didn't bother even trying to find out. I knew that it would just confuse me even more. If we arrived with a fairly quick time, I'd be wondering how in the world I got lost… and why I never knew that mansion was there… Yeah… I didn't want to think about it. Ever.) I mean, I knew that I would have to answer a lot of questions, but at least the adventure was over… and I was done hanging with this stiff Englishman.
I quickly took note of the fact that neither of my family's two vehicles were parked in the driveway. Oh dear… I hoped that they hadn't gone to the police in town yet. That would make them good parents, but in this case…
The car ceased to a stop and I leaped out, racing for the door. I turned the knob. It was locked. I punched in the code –as we have one of those nifty keyless/code locks- and flung open the door.
"I'm-" The rest of the sentence caught in my throat at the same time my body froze.
That's not right…
I did a double take. When nothing changed, I did a triple take.
…Did I break into somebody else's house?
The house number was the same. The lock code was the same. Heck, this house, both interior and exterior were exactly the same… excluding the fact that the house was completely empty! What was this? What was going on?
"If this is some sort of joke, I'm leaving right now." Arthur had appeared behind me. If anything, the joke was on me… I couldn't think of any reason for the current situation. I could feel my brain shutting down again…
"C-can I borrow your phone?" I stared meekly up at big brows. He glared back at me, but sighed and gave me his phone from the pocket of his jeans. It was the newest model of the iPhone. I normally would have ogled over it, but I was kind of panicked and going a little crazy. I tapped in my mom's cell number and lifted the device to my ear. The voice on the other end was not what I was expecting.
"We're sorry," the dull, monotonous voice said, "But the number you have dialed does not exist in this area…" I tried again, but got the same result. It was pretty much repeat with dad's number and (since I was desperate) the house number. I slowly handed the phone back to Arthur, trying my best to ignore his weird glances at me. I didn't know what to say. My family had just disappeared of the face of the Earth… I was losing my mind, big time… Arthur cleared his throat.
"Shall I be taking my leave now?" He sounded sarcastic in a way, like he was talking with a problem child.
"N-no…" If I was going mental I at least wanted to know that I wasn't alone and that, in fact, my family was right there and this was, in fact, my house -filled with furniture, as always. I would also really like to know about the mansion… "I-I don't know what to think… My family… I can't get ahold of them… A-and Alfred… His place was never there until yesterday…"
I looked up again, awaiting Kirkland's reply. He didn't say anything, but cast me another glance as if to say "what is wrong with you?" then looked away at something else. Not really knowing what else to say or do, I followed his line of vision… to find my eyes resting on tiny winged girl.
I didn't know why I was so pissed off at her, but I was. My inner voice (though it most definitely had a tendency to be incorrect) was telling me she most definitely had something to do with this situation. I swiftly grabbed her before she could disappear again. When I looked at Arthur again, I was pretty sure I saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. What was so funny?
"A-and fairy girl here… She just keeps coming and going as she pleases... L-Like a-a…" The men in the white coats were probably coming to take me away, may as well mention the fairies and be proven that they didn't exist and that I was holding nothing.
"…And you killed it." Arthur's slight smirk had reversed into a slight frown of disdain. Wait… what had he just said? I looked down at the puny limp body in my grasp.
"Just how hard did you grab her? Pixies are really frail, you know…"
"Y-you can see her?" Was I hearing right?
"I can't deny that fact…"
S-so I wasn't entirely going mental…?
…Wait, no. Mr. Brit was probably just playing along before turning me in to a facility…
"Come on." Arthur had turned around and was walking toward the car. I quickly closed and locked the door before trailing behind.
"Huh?" I hoped that he wasn't turning me in before I could see my family again…
"I'll stay another night or two until we can solve this… predicament." Was he going to turn me in or… maybe, help me? "But," his voice turned cold, "If this is some sort of… prank, you'd better fess up now. Or, so help me, I'll make you regret your poor decision." I shivered. Thank goodness I wasn't joking!
…Or was that something to be happy about…
I paced to the car, quickly setting down the fairy-pixie thing on the ground sometime in the process. I didn't feel all too guilty for her. She was the one that got me into this mess, sorry or not.
More notes: I know it's kind of a sucky way to get into the plot but... it was the best I could think of. Anyway, thank you very, very much for reading this chapter and this story!Like I always say; pretty, pretty please review! Positive reviews, negative reviews, tips on how I can improve my writing, future ideas, etc. would be super appreciated! :D