Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-38091275-20191010184259/@comment-47.200.194.236-20191214191413

Behind the pattern by DaSnowLeopard

Wynn sighed. New house, new family, new life. Could she make the best of it? She stared out the window at the long winding road. She thought of that book series she had been reading, A Series Of Unfortunate Events. She was glad that her parents were alive. Their problem was that they just couldn’t handle her. Her tricks, pranks, secrets, friends, her strange(duck)ness. Her... talents. Now she was off to her grandmothers house. Literally. She was... excited. Grandma Esther was interesting. She never judged her for her talent. Habits. Life.

When they had finally arrived, Wynn was shocked. Her grandmother must be the richest woman on earth! She loved in such a huge mansion, Wynn felt one could get lost just by walking through the front door. As she walked through this enormous front door. She realized, that was the truth. Before she could stumble into some abandoned storage closet, a man with a tux, a shining white smile, and the strangest black hair and eyes walked forward. “Well Miss Carverd? Where would you like to room? Balcony? Suite? Or, the penthouse?” Wynn just stood there, unable to breathe.

Her grandmothers house was a zoo. Of objects. The sofa tottered along beside the piano, who was playing a little jig. The footrest was barking and the fan was yawning. She couldn’t help but think, I’m not beautiful enough (or old enough) to be in beauty in the beast. But that was what it looked like. The man, perhaps a Butler, looked at her strangely. “What’s wrong? I’m Butler by the way. Don’t ask, it’s my real name.” She just stared. “You don’t see, this.” She gestured. “what? Are you okay?” She nodded. It must be one of her.. fits again. She blinked and it was gone.There was a mansion to explore.

Just then, before she could take Butlers hand and take a tour, a tall, sweet woman walked up. She looked like she was in her early forties. “Hi dear Wynn. I’m grandma Esther.” Grandma? This woman was her grandmother. She smiled for once. She was going to have fun with this woman, she just knew it. The woman looked down at her. “Just call me Ess darling. Everyone does. Butler you are excused. Now, I’ll show you to your room. Penthouse, I heard?” Wynn now looked up at her. “Yes... Ess.”

Once they had climbed the 309 staircases to get to the top, (Grandma Esther was very fit and in shape) they reached the penthouse. Her grandmother- Ess, opened the door for her. “Here dear.” Wynn gasped. It was beautiful. So beautiful she couldn’t describe it. (So I won’t) then a queer thought hit Wynn. There were no curtains. The she walked into her bedroom. Except above her bed. Suddenly the curtain rustled. Then stopped. Then repeated. It turned somehow to “look” at her. “What are you looking at?” It demanded. “Nothing.” She stuttered. But it was as if it had never happened.

Wynn turned to see her grandmother at the door with a knowing smile. “I’m going to leave you some time to get settled. Butler just bought your bags up and unpacked them. He’s fast... and well paid.” She took her leave. Leaving Wynn with the penthouse and the phantom curtain. “You have a gift.” The curtain said suddenly. “You free us.” Wynn blushed. “I wouldn’t say gift, more like... talent.” The curtain seemed to shrug, well it went up and down again in a quick and careless movement. “It’s all the same to me. What matters is... I know why.”

Wynn startled. “Why?” The curtain was intimate again. “Stupid curtain.” She growled. “There is probably a reason you are the only one around.” The curtain turned. “Yes there is...” Wynn shrieked. “Tell me why I have this.. talent.” The curtain seemed to sigh, down then up. “Fine. It’s because your grandmother felt wrong. Hurting objects. She was determined to prove they thought, had feelings, felt. So she experimented. With chemicals. And when you were born? She gave them to you. She thought that you would one day study them. Make them better. But you drank them. And now this.”

Wynn groaned. “You did not just ruin my whole visit. Whyyy did you have to tell me that?” The curtain shrugged again. “It’s simple. Your grandmother hates curtains. They tell secrets.”

The end

I know that was way to long but still. Isn’t it good I made such a long story form three words? Isn’t that the point. And still compared to other stories it’s short