"you always smile like you're about to cry"

RACHEL
"you always smile like you're about to cry" the words came out more like a
realisation than a compliment(,or insult, whichever you will). The solf line above
between his eyes appearing as he grasped at the meaning, never lifting his eyes off
of her. silence seeping into the conversationg and making itself comfortable, as
slick awkwardness could be read on her face, despite the best effort to hide her
bodys reaction.
Never before was he able to get a read on her, not unless she deliberately let him.
not unless she was in control. But now, she left her guard down, and truth made
itself visible, loud like a scream for him. he could see her struggle inside. her
brain on fire looking for anything to say to bring things back to their normal. her
normal. the one she developed in order to keep on surviving.
"no."

ME
"hey, are you gonna eat that?" she asked while reaching for my bag of chips after
having finished hers. I grabbed it and shoved it in her face, "knock yourself out!"
After a couple of minutes of silence (well, except for her crunching) I burst out
"REALLY?! how can you just eat so peacefully when i'm having a breakdown?!"
She slowly put the chip she was holding in her mouth, crunched it and quickly
swallowed it.
"i'm sorry, darling, but i thought you were finished..." she said sheepishly.
I smiled at her and sighed, looking down.
"*you always smile like you're about to cry*," she told me, nudging my elbow. "go
on, now, finish the story," she pleaded.
"i only cry on the inside," i stated, putting on one of my most serious
expressions.
For a split-second, she eyed me suspiciously, trying to see whether I was actually
mad or not. We looked in each others eyes for a moment and then started laughing
like someone cracked the best joke ever.
"you almost got me there, i was beginning to think i messed up real bad at being a
good friend," she said between giggles, wiping tears from her eyes.
"nah, you're the best one there is," i added, hugging her shoulder. she rested her
head on it as we both looked at the stars. "i just wish there could be something i
could do to make it better."

_______________________________________________
- old rotten shack
- the creaking of footsteps
- blood pumping through your veins

ME

"STOP!" I yelled as my eyes snapped open, feeling the blood pumping through my
veins at lightning speed, my heart beating as if being ready to break my chest and
get out. I sighed and looked at the clock. It read 3:19 a.m. What was _that_? It
was coming for _me_? But why?
I counted to four, inhaled and then counted to four again and exhaled. That's what
my shrink taught me to do whenever I felt like my body was getting outta control.
After a few of these, my hands stopped shaking and I felt like my pulse was getting
back to normal.
"Stupid old neighbors!" I exclaimed while getting out of the bed. I headed for my
suitcase to look for other clothes. These were drenched with sweat. A shiver ran
down my spine and I reached for the thermostat to try turning on the heating again.
This shack is so rotten the walls are probably paper-thin. No wonder. It's been
here since the world began. It still wasn't working. I wanted to smash that remote,
but there was still a spark of hope inside that maybe it would work, eventually. I
gotta give those guys from the heating company a call tomorrow.
If I get through the night, that is. Why did I agree to house-sit? My great-aunt
was never good at housekeeping, but I never thought she'd become this neglectful.
But she asked nicely and I was free for the week anyway. I hope she'll attend to
that bussiness of hers and come back in two days instead four.
I put on my fluffy robe and head downstairs to fix myself a cup of tea. Some
chamomile will help me get back to sleep.
I put the kettle on and I start shuffling through the cabinets, looking for tea.
Come to think of it, she might not have any. Oh, there it is. Good old chamo-BANG!
I freeze with a tea bag in my hand. I slowly turn around to see what fell behind me
that made that noise. I instantly relax when I realise it was only Rosie jumping on
the table. That wicked feline will be the death of me. Why isn't she like Reggie or
Royal?!
Come to think of it, I am actually cat-sitting, not house-sitting.
I go to the box of cat goodies and grab a few treats to give to Rosie. After I put
the treats in front of her, she starts devouring them greedily. So this is why
she's this big. I notice her snout is a bit red-stained. Sheesh, I wonder if there
are rats in this house. I shiver at the thought of those gross beings. Ew.
The kettle starts stirring, signaling me that my water is boiling. I retrieve my
tea bag and put it in a big mug, then I start filling it to the brim.
After a few minutes of holding my mug with brewing tea, the only thing that keeps
me warm right now, I throw away the tea bag and head for the stairs.
As I walk lazily towards the flight of stairs leading to the bedroom, I notice a
big stain on the living room floor that I haven't noticed before. I squint in the
darkness and since my sight is real bad in daylight, let alone darkness, I feel for
the switch and I press it. Nothing happens. Sigh. Aunt Kerry can't be bothered to
even change the lightbulbs.
I go back to the kitchen and let my mug there. Great, now the tea will get cold.
That'll make two of us.
I go to the bedroom to retrieve my phone, turn the lantern on and then go back down
to check out that huge stain. I wonder what these cats spilled on the floor and I
cross my fingers and hope it's washable.
When the light hits the stain, my phone hits the ground and the light goes out as I
cry in horror. That's not a stain. That is a pool of blood. Blood from the
butchered Reggie and Royal. My heart starts racing and the trembling of my hands is
back.
Was this why Rosie's snout was all dirty? Has she been licking their blood?!
As the thought of someone being inside the house hits me, I grab my phone up off
the floor and run upstairs to the bathroom and lock the door. I dial aunt Kerry's
number and wait for her to pick up. After a few moments, it goes to voicemail. I
try again. And again. After calling four times and not getting an answer, I call my
husband. I know it's 4 a.m. at home, but right now I couldn't care less. As I press
dial on his number, I hear the floor creaking in the bedroom. I hold my breath and
look to the sky for a second.
"_Hello? Darling, why are you calling this late? Is everything alright?_" he asks
sleepily.
"Theressomeoneinthehouse!" I whisper as low and quick as I can.
"_Are you sure this isn't the cats messing around?_" he asks, half-asleep, half-
chuckling.
A small whimper escapes me and I feel like breaking down in sobbs. "Babe, I'm
serious. I'm terrified and I don't know what to-" BANG!
RACHEL

cold night. tunder. however the inside of the old shack had a warm glow casted upon
it from the fire roaring in the small terracota over in the corner. the smell of
burn pine, dust and wet earth filled the air. shadows danced along the walls unde
the instructions of restless flames.
the rotten wood floor served a harsh reminder of the cold outside as his face
inched closer to the flame in a failed attempt to warm his cold blood that seemed
to pump faster than ever in his veins.
he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the hot air. thats when the silence
seemed to be broken by a cracking woodplank by the door. he tried his best to not
snap his head up and look, afterall, he knew this was coming. he very well expected
this to happen. when he had finally looked up and at the door there was
nothignthere besides the puddle on the floor. raising one eyebrow he scanned his
surroundings.
"hello?" his voice was like thunder along side the pitter patter of rain that was
coming down against the roof
but only silence replied. so he turned back to face the fire.

that is when he felt it.

solft hands creeping, and wrapping around his waist as a heavy, wet body dropped
itself againt him "can you believe the weather we're having?" his wife giggled
slighty against his ear.
Lightining always had a way with sneaking.