Shifting HeartsMature

This is a different spin on Alex: Shifting Hearts. Infact it's almost ocmpletely different. I think it's better personally, but let me know what you think.

It was quaint and maybe even charming perhaps in its time but as I stood in the doorway of my new home -a stranger’s home- my chest sank into my stomach. I knew that this old piece of worn down real-estate was the only place I could ever truly be myself in now.

“Come on move, move!”

I was pushed aside by a lanky looking man carrying the few possessions I had left in the world. Some old clothes, hair pieces and make-up that had hardly been worn and of course cinnamon bear; a small purple plush bear I had received on my fourth birthday, from a half-sister I had only met a few times.

The man dropped the boxes inside the door and stepped back out to his red truck parked on the front lawn.

I hadn’t even been in the house yet, so it’s not like I could be offended by his pushiness. I just sort of stood around gawking for what seemed the longest time until I heard Gabriel call my name.

“Claire!” I heard him from a distance inside the house. It was a very large house.

“Could you please come in and stop gawking on the porch! People already suspect.”

Yah right, I thought to myself. People didn’t know anything.  At least not about me they didn’t. Not yet.

“Coming!” I hollered back.

Gabriel wasn’t exactly a stranger. It had been a couple of days since “the change” and I guess I was growing accustomed to his sour attitude and poker faced looks of anguish. What did he have to be so miserable about anyway? He had this life-size doll house right in the middle of a rich green field and surrounded by the privacy of pine trees. Admittedly, it would have looked far better off with a coat of varnish on the porch and some clean trim. A good scrubbing to the white board siding and some paint would do the house good too, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Not that I was choosing this place at all and begging was certainly an overstatement. I had to be there. Be there with Gabriel or risk killing someone.

I stepped through the door into a mudroom and was pushed aside again by the same gangly man. This time he was carrying an old black bedframe, and another dumpy little man trailed behind him with a mattress. I watched them carry it up a flight of rounding wooden stairs and disappear.

“How do you like it?” I heard and turned to my right. Gabriel was striding towards me from a small hallway between the door and what I presumed was a kitchen in the far.

I looked around at what I could see so far. Inside was a bit better. There was a stone floor where I stood, and as I stepped up onto landing from the mudroom where I left my sneakers hardwood floors spread out into the house. To my left I could see a lovely sitting room with a fireplace and some old furniture adorned with blankets. The tall windows were all covered with draping black curtains and the walls were shaded in a harsh grey. To the right I caught a glimpse of an old fashioned claw foot bath tub sitting below a window. The bathroom too had dark curtains covering any light. And straight ahead of me was the kitchen which I could not make out any description of at that point.

“It’s umm… nice,” I said apprehensively.

He looked at me with a twitch in his brows. I thought for a moment he was going to shoot steam from his ears the way his face reddened.

“Your room is upstairs,” He said abruptly. “If you find it unsuitable there is a futon in the sunroom out back. I sleep there now, but you may have it if you wish. I must warn you though; it tends to cool down quite a bit during the evening - even for our kind.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure I’ll find the bedroom to be just fine thanks,” I said as I turned my back and wondered why on earth anyone would want to sleep in a cold sunroom.

“Suit you self,” Gabriel said as he grabbed my arm firmly and turned me back around to face him. He leaned in close. I could smell the spicy scent of his Hummer cologne.

“Upstairs, first door on the left,” he pointed to the staircase. “And don’t do anything stupid Claire. I have ears like a wolf.”

“You are a wolf.” I said with a bit of sarcasm in my voice.

“Yes, and you’re my prey,” he said. “Don’t forget it.”

I pulled my arm away and began up the stairs.

He must think himself to be a great wolf and I just a mere insignificant doe, I thought. I may not have liked the house or the person living in it, but I was not about to give up a bedroom after all I had given up already.

I was stronger than that.

The End

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