SHH, DON'T TELL ANYONE

04 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐘

"Can you promise to not talk to anyone? Please," he asked holding my hand gently.

"Since you said please. I'll think about it," I teased him.

"Dream I'm not playing around. I'm being serious," he begged.

"Alright, alright."

"My god, your hands are cold," he started rubbing them warm.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you don't give me your jacket." I sighed.

"Luis! Give the girl your jacket," Caleb yells.

I was suprised Caleb wasn't wearing a jacket, or had any signs of being cold. He had no goosebumps or was shivering.

The boy looked only looked fourteen years old, "On it Caruso."

I turn my head around to already see him with the jacket.

I stuttered, "How did he do that?"

Caleb grabs the boy by the collar, "Dreamy stay here."

They walked so far. I couldn't hear their words or read their lips.

The boy gave me a long stare, a stare of astonishment.

What would he have said that might've frightened him?

Caleb walked back, and before I could get a word, he says, "Nope I don't want to hear it."

As we reached the door, we noticed a small sign that read for sale. Caleb ripped the sign in half, "Your selling the house without even telling me? Why didn't you ask if I wanted to keep anything before it's gone," He yelled, storming into the house.

"I've been trying to bring it up for weeks, but you've been so busy with school," she said softly.

He stops in his tracks.

"I'm sorry mom, I didn't mean to react that way," he apologized, hugging her tightly.

"It's okay. Let's talk about this later," she suggested.

I scanned his mom. She had light brown eyes, that seemed to hold the mysterious of the universe. Her brown skin was smooth and flawless. Her sharp cheekbone and full lips framed her curly jet black hair. She was a beautiful black woman.

As soon as she catches a whiff of the unfamiliar scent, her nose wrinkles in displeasure. Her eyes narrow as she sniffs more intently, trying to pinpoint the source of the smell.

She looks at me, and says, "What is it, doing here?" She looks quickly away, once I look back at her.

Was she talking about me? I wanted to greet her, but I remembered what Caleb warned me about.

"Mom I'll take care of her," he said reassuringly.

"I'm so angry at you right now. You know your not," she stops talking, trying to control her emotions.

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down before continuing. "We need to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Sit in this chair," he said, gesturing towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

I hesitantly made my way towards the chair, wondering what was going on. I couldn't wait for Caleb and I to be alone, so I could question him.

Inside the house the walls were covered in old wallpaper peeling at the edges, it was giving neglect and decay. Their was paintings of old men

from the BC time, they were wearing traditional robes, and had long beards. The room was decorated very dark, and depressing it reflected to the paintings on the walls.

I was drawn to reality by a scream. The sound echoed through the air, "Fathers dead!" I could hear cries, and big stomps above my head. The screams got louder and louder.

I couldn't take it anymore, I ran out of my chair. I saw his father laying in the bed still, with no sign of consciousness. Everyone else around him had tears streaming down their faces.

"What is a mortal being doing in our house," the girl points at me, her eyes wide with shock and fear. I stood there, unsure of how to respond to their questioning gazes. Did I unknowingly stumble into a forbidden realm situation?

"I told you stay sitting," Caleb said slamming the door shut behind him.

"I warned you, but once again you seem to never listen," he shouted.

"I'm not going to just sit there and do nothing when I hear someone screaming."

"I wanted to see what was wrong. Why are you being so harsh," I said on the verge of crying.

He stops dragging me by the arm, and looks into my eyes, he sighs, "I don't want you to get hurt." I could see the pain in his eyes, and his voice cracking.

He takes a step back and releases my arm, a look of concern and worry etched onto his face. "I just want you to be safe," he adds softly.

"What are you talking about? Im tired of you being so secretive. Nothing is making sense," I shouted.

"I'll explain everything. Just get in the limo," he pushed me back into the sleek black car, parked by the curb. The tinted windows, hid my presence.

An hour goes by.

I see people arriving at the house. I noticed everyone was wearing those traditional robes I saw earlier in those paintings.

They all seemed to be in a hurry, walking into groups according to their color. There was no sight of skin exposed, as everyone was covered from head to toe. It was an interesting sight, seeing these people embrace their cultural traditions and come together in such a unified manner.

Another hour goes by. The windows are closed, but I see the lights flickering on and off. I start smelling smoke, and soon enough my eyes start to water. I see a fire rising inside the house. Why is nobody running outside? Why hasn't the fire alarm go off?

I start coughing, and realize that the smoke is getting thicker inside the car.

I start banging on the car window, and yell, "Help! I cant breathe."

The windows are indestructible, and the doors won't open. I knew I was trapped inside this limo, and nobody was going to hear my screams for the life of me.

I sat there, sinking in the seat. I could feel the heat getting closer, and at this point I needed to cover my nose and mouth or I was going to cough losing air more quickly.

My breaths became shorter and shorter. My heartbeat slower, and slower.

I prayed for someone to come and rescue me, but as the flames engulfed the car, I knew it was too late. The last thing I remembered was closing my eyes and taking one final, desperate breath.