Neighbour-less Number Thirteen
Thirteen 'years' later...
Suzy blinked, and then stared at the house in front of her, her mouth hung open in astonishment. She clenched her fists and arched her dark, thin eyebrows.
"Is that it?" she hissed, barely able to speak. "We left our home for that !"
Suzy stamped her foot in rage, as if she could make the cottage in front of her reform into her dream home by sheer willpower. It was revolting. At least, Suzy thought it was. She was used to a busy city, loud neighbours, howling dogs and drunken gangs roaming the streets. She'd hated each and every one of those aspects of city life - but that didn't mean she wanted to leave them.
It had been difficult for her to explain, particularly because she couldn't say she liked her old life. Suzy had always groaned that she wanted to move to a quiet, country home when she was stuck in the city; therefore it was easy to understand why her family was bewildered with her sudden tantrums.
The house itself was a thatched cottage with a clumpy brown roof and bricks painted with thick, dirty white paint. The door was made of spongy wood, and was painted with what looked like glossy black treacle. Upon the door was a golden knocker shaped into a thin, pinched face with horns and fangs - a dragon's face. The windows were leaded, with panels of fuchsia and scarlet glass so thin that they could have been mistaken for cellophane. Hanging baskets hung either side of the tar-black door, baring shrivelled plants that could have once been colourful flora. The flowerbeds, likewise, now looked more like homes for creeping insects and slithering reptiles, with colossal toadstools poking their way out of the weedy leaves.
It wasn't perfect, but it was quiet and understated - a place of independence. It was lonely and secret, in the midst of a lush forest - just like something out of a storybook.
Suzy shook her head in obvious disgust, but her father wandered over to her and rested one of his enormous pink hands on her spindly shoulder.
"Here, love, you did want to move," he said truthfully.
Suzy turned and glared at him like a sulking child, lips in a pout. She looked comical, but her father suppressed a laugh, probably knowing her reaction to his blatant amusement would be a horrible one.
"I said no such thing," Suzy lied, because she truly couldn't remember the words 'I want to move' passing her lips - even though they had, and many times at that.
"You did," her mother agreed.
"I didn't, so shut up! Don't blame me for this stupid decision!" Suzy snapped, wrenching her shoulder away from her father's grasp.
Her sudden outburst had awoken her younger, seven-year-old brother, Ralph. He was a boy who was opposite to Suzy in every possible way. In fact, he was so contrasting that it was always a shock to find out they were related by even the faintest bloodline, and even Suzy couldn't understand it. She'd asked if she'd been adopted more than once, but her parents had shot the idea down with ice - however, Suzy thought she'd seen something panicked in their eyes.
Anyway, Ralph had shot into the air the moment his eyelids lifted, for he was a happy, hyperactive boy no matter what the circumstances - a characteristic that greatly annoyed Suzy, but that might have been because she wanted the happy-go-lucky aspect herself, though she'd never have it.
"We're here!" Ralph panted. "Wow, it's amazing! Can I go into the woods, Mum? Wow! It's much better than home! Why didn't you wake me up the moment we got here? I love it! Can we stay here forever?"
Then something strange happened, something that greatly unnerved Suzy so much that she didn't even make a snide remark about her brother's irritating gabble. She let out a snicker, but stopped as she swore she heard a voice on the gentle wind, spoken in a breathless tone that moved in time with mouthing of Suzy's lips, saying exactly the same word...
"Never," hissed the voice, as Suzy mouthed it.
It was so faint and ghostly that it almost wasn't there, but that fact just encouraged a shiver to scuttle up Suzy's spine. Suzy whipped round suddenly, trying to find the source of the word, but there wasn't anything anywhere. Another shiver flew up her spine - if something is nowhere then it could be anywhere.
Her family were unaware of her flight of suspicion, for her brother was too busy gabbling about the greatness of the cottage and her parents were too busy listening to him. She eyed the surrounding trees, looking for a shadowed figure lurking in the darkness. She swore she caught sight of something...
But soon boxes of cutlery and clothes were being thrust at her, blocking the view of her observing eyes. Keen to look further, she heaved them into her new home, disliking the inside even more than the outside if that was possible. It was empty of furniture and character, therefore it could have been any old house - but there was something about it that she hated beyond the musty, old smell...
Suzy dumped the boxes down, suddenly angry and irritated. Deaf to her mother's annoyance, she stormed out of the house. She didn't really have anywhere she could go to let off steam, but even the gnarled woods seemed a good substitute to the house.
However, as she approached the trees, ready to wander into the woods and get well and truly lost, she heard something. It was something beyond the cries of crows and the crunch of the shrivled grass beneath her, something ghostlier than the howl of the wind and the swaying leaves on the trees brushing against each other, making them sound like they were whispering.
It was the voice. Again.
"You'd better not go into the woods," it whispered, and then said nothing more.
Suzy froze, her blood turning cold and her heart suddenly hurtling forwards to slam against her ribcage in an intense heartbeat. Fear flooded her and ghostly thoughts haunted her mind, and she followed the voice's words. She turned round and ran back to the door - but never had a two second run passed so slowly.
Suzy stopped once again at the sight of something nailed by the door - the number of the house painted onto a rectangular slab of cherry wood in gold paint. It enhanced Suzy's fear and intensified her ghastly thoughts so much that she felt faint.
The cottage, neighbour-lacking and lonely, was number 13.
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A pretty long chapter, but I hope that'll keep my few readers satisfied. There should be less mistakes less time because I've copied and pasted it into word to check for spelling and grammar problems, but please tell me if there's any mistakes.
