pull and I reluctantly rose from the armchair
and crept to the stairs slowly, inspecting each of the photos as I went. The
smiling faces of the Bere’s looked down on me,
watching me as I explored their house.
As I stepped on to the first step of the stairs it
creaked loudly and my heart leapt as I froze. Suddenly every sound I had
previously missed seemed magnified. A clock ticked somewhere, each one
measuring how long it took for my heart to slow, the pipes under the flooring
gushed and groaned and a tap slowly dripped in to the bowl of a sink. I listened
to each one, the hairs on my arms standing on their ends as I finally started
to relax, letting out a nervous chuckle which seemed unnatural in the empty
house
I climbed the stairs slowly, prepared for any more
creaking steps, sighing in relief when I got to the landing without any more
mishaps. The light streaming through the small window gave everything an almost
surreal glow, small dust particles flying through the air only adding to the
effect. A door was open directly to my right and I popped my head in, finding a
very clean bathroom. Like the living room it seemed cluttered, but everything
appeared to have its own place and even the toilet paper was folded into a
triangular point. My mother prided herself on our ‘show home’ but even she
didn’t go that far.
As I left the bathroom, I tried the handle of the
door opposite the stairs, frowning when I found it locked. I rattled the handle
as though it would magically open but with a sigh, I gave up. Just another
mystery of the Bere’s . I walked down the landing and
tried another handle, smiling as the door opened easily and walking in to what
could only be Mr and Mrs Bere’s room.
A huge bed stood in the centre of the room, each
side reflecting a personality. Judging by what I had seen so far, the left side
belonged to Mrs Bere . Plush pillows and cushions
littered her space, an extra comfort blanket folded neatly on top of the bed
sheets. Her bedside table had a beautiful vase with an arrangement of flowers,
a pair of reading glasses and a book. I walked over to see what she was
reading, a small smile playing about my lips as I saw the familiar figures of
Romeo and Juliet smiling at each other.
Mr Bere’s side was another
matter entirely. He had one pillow and I could tell by looking that it wasn’t
something I would like to lay on, I could see a perfect rectangle in its shape
rather than the softer curves of his wife’s pillows. His own bedside table was
devoid of any objects, save for an old fashioned alarm clock.
I glanced around the rest of the room, but nothing
really popped out at me, more family pictures, and the same cluttered theme. I
left the room untouched and walked back in to the hallway, facing the last
door. With a nervousness I didn’t expect, I slowly pushed down the handle and exhaled
as I entered the room.
The Bere’s son certainly
had his own style, completely different to the rest of the house. The walls
were a pale blue, the upholstery a darker blue. There were no posters on the
walls, no family portraits. The only insight to his personality was a cooking
book on the bedside table. The room was devoid of clutter, in fact it was
completely neat and tidy, unexpectedly so.
What really had my interest was the bed.
Not quite a double, I was itching to know if it was
as perfect as all his other choices and without waiting for my brain to catch
up with my body, I was across the room, my fingertips brushing over the bed
covers. I sat down on the mattress and was not disappointed.
The sheets had been warmed from the sunshine burning
through the window, the mattress, like the armchair, had the perfect amount of
softness while still supporting my weight. I laid back and felt my head sink
deliciously in to the pillow. Oh this was heaven, just right. I closed my eyes
and enjoyed the feel of the sun warming my skin.
As I became too comfortable, I could feel myself
falling in to darkness,
and crept to the stairs slowly, inspecting each of the photos as I went. The
smiling faces of the Bere’s looked down on me,
watching me as I explored their house.
As I stepped on to the first step of the stairs it
creaked loudly and my heart leapt as I froze. Suddenly every sound I had
previously missed seemed magnified. A clock ticked somewhere, each one
measuring how long it took for my heart to slow, the pipes under the flooring
gushed and groaned and a tap slowly dripped in to the bowl of a sink. I listened
to each one, the hairs on my arms standing on their ends as I finally started
to relax, letting out a nervous chuckle which seemed unnatural in the empty
house
I climbed the stairs slowly, prepared for any more
creaking steps, sighing in relief when I got to the landing without any more
mishaps. The light streaming through the small window gave everything an almost
surreal glow, small dust particles flying through the air only adding to the
effect. A door was open directly to my right and I popped my head in, finding a
very clean bathroom. Like the living room it seemed cluttered, but everything
appeared to have its own place and even the toilet paper was folded into a
triangular point. My mother prided herself on our ‘show home’ but even she
didn’t go that far.
As I left the bathroom, I tried the handle of the
door opposite the stairs, frowning when I found it locked. I rattled the handle
as though it would magically open but with a sigh, I gave up. Just another
mystery of the Bere’s . I walked down the landing and
tried another handle, smiling as the door opened easily and walking in to what
could only be Mr and Mrs Bere’s room.
A huge bed stood in the centre of the room, each
side reflecting a personality. Judging by what I had seen so far, the left side
belonged to Mrs Bere . Plush pillows and cushions
littered her space, an extra comfort blanket folded neatly on top of the bed
sheets. Her bedside table had a beautiful vase with an arrangement of flowers,
a pair of reading glasses and a book. I walked over to see what she was
reading, a small smile playing about my lips as I saw the familiar figures of
Romeo and Juliet smiling at each other.
Mr Bere’s side was another
matter entirely. He had one pillow and I could tell by looking that it wasn’t
something I would like to lay on, I could see a perfect rectangle in its shape
rather than the softer curves of his wife’s pillows. His own bedside table was
devoid of any objects, save for an old fashioned alarm clock.
I glanced around the rest of the room, but nothing
really popped out at me, more family pictures, and the same cluttered theme. I
left the room untouched and walked back in to the hallway, facing the last
door. With a nervousness I didn’t expect, I slowly pushed down the handle and exhaled
as I entered the room.
The Bere’s son certainly
had his own style, completely different to the rest of the house. The walls
were a pale blue, the upholstery a darker blue. There were no posters on the
walls, no family portraits. The only insight to his personality was a cooking
book on the bedside table. The room was devoid of clutter, in fact it was
completely neat and tidy, unexpectedly so.
What really had my interest was the bed.
Not quite a double, I was itching to know if it was
as perfect as all his other choices and without waiting for my brain to catch
up with my body, I was across the room, my fingertips brushing over the bed
covers. I sat down on the mattress and was not disappointed.
The sheets had been warmed from the sunshine burning
through the window, the mattress, like the armchair, had the perfect amount of
softness while still supporting my weight. I laid back and felt my head sink
deliciously in to the pillow. Oh this was heaven, just right. I closed my eyes
and enjoyed the feel of the sun warming my skin.
As I became too comfortable, I could feel myself
falling in to darkness,
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