The House that Swallows Kids

Chapter 21. Game II

"Like you're not afraid of anything." Jordan rolled his eyes; though they seemed hungry, they still kept track of things around them.

Clifford sprung out his skinny chest. And a confident look smeared on his face. "What can I say..."

"He sure is." Claire countered almost immediately, cutting short whatever act, Clifford had got on.

Clifford paused, shooting his sister a hot look, "no I'm not."

"He's afraid of tiny spiders and other crawly insects." She announced, with a grin on her face.

"Ooouuuu," Alfred and Jordan chorused, and then they laughed.

"He's slept in mom and dad's room more times than a normal kid ought to, all because he's afraid there might be spiders under his bed." Claire elaborated.

At first, Clifford's mouth was agape, shocked that his sister could rat him out that much. But then, he acted as if it was no big deal, and they all kept strolling.

Each stroll seemingly presenting their feet with more tiny grains of soil.

"So what?" Clifford said, and allowed a dramatic pause, while he ogled at Claire. Which gave him time to think of a perfect reply. "At least I'm not the one who can't sleep without a lullaby every night!" he announced.

"It comforts me!" she bit back.

"Or it keeps your imaginary monsters at bay," Clifford added with a tone that was a bit high. At least, I'm still afraid of something that's real and creepy. And not some giant from Monster's Inc.

"God. You're such an idiot." Claire chuckled as she immediately gave up on the duel.

"Ha-ha," he ignored and kept on walking like the others. He could feel his feet now kicking up small grains of sand every step.

He thought for a second and then asked, "what about you Alfred, what are you afraid of?"

He paused for a moment, to think as to why they'd ask him. But from the looks of it, they were all still in the 'let's get to know one another' phase. And it seemed like they were doing a bit of sharing.

Alfred then slowed down like the others, and allowed his brain to process a melancholy memory.

He gave them a hidden expression look, then sighed. He thought for a second and replied.

"I'm not afraid of anything." He started, and the pause, along with the pervasive silence that came with that statement, was meant for him to elaborate. "I've learned... not be afraid of anything. Because being afraid has cost me... someone I hold dear." He said, his face all downcast.

Others now slowed down to a halt; not that they were under a conducive environ, they felt they needed to hear more. And their eyes fell on Alfred now. Querying and thirsty for more of what they just heard. Their silence was a cue for Alfred to continue, and he did.

"I was always a timorous kid. Afraid of speaking up when I ought to. Of making a move when I had to. Even admiring something... that was supposed to admired by everyone." He sighed again. "But that all changed on... one unfortunate morning."

"I was in the middle of my breakfast, when our kitchen suddenly caught on fire. I panicked, and hid under the kitchen counter. Dad was working in the garage, and as soon as he saw the flames, he came running."

Alfred took deep breaths, and swallowed hard. He brushed his left knuckles over his eyes to clear the film of water that had begun to pool, and then continued even slower.

"He called out my name through the kitchen window for me to reach for his hand. So he could pull me out. I was all sweaty and my lungs were filled with smoke. I was so scared to die... that my feet were stuck, and I didn't move."