The tall hedges were well cultivated, as was the yard and shrubbery. Well-organized flowers created beds of color amongst the greenery, and the bright white of the mansion was accented with red paneling and a dark roof. The mansion’s style was an older one, of what era I was unsure, and quite beautiful with its large door and huge glass windows. The boy led me inside, eagerly staring at me.
“I’m sure you’ll stop getting lost eventually,” he said.
My jaw dropped. This place was a mess! The little foyer was cluttered, with shoes and jackets strewn over the wooden floor. Dirt scuffs marred the surface.
“
Where have your parents been?” I gasped. Surely they would not stand for this! They would not have let their child trash such a beautiful place so readily, would they?
“I told you,” he whined, “Mom and Dad are
gone!”
“Tell me your name,” I demanded.
“Sage,” he said.
“Sage,” I repeated, thinking it wasn’t as strange as ‘Elke’. “I’ll call them. Where are they at?”
“They aren’t here,” he said. “They aren’t on this world.”
I frowned at him. “Please, be serious. Tell me where they are. Where they’ve gone.”
“They’re not here,” he said, frowning stubbornly in the way little boys did.
I sighed. “Fine.” I wanted to turn around and let his parents deal with it when they returned, but for some reason my heart was pounding. I couldn’t just leave him all alone in here! It didn’t look like anyone else was around. I glanced around, noting the multiple doors and the curving stairwell that led to the second floor. Hanging from the domed ceiling was a huge chandelier, the beauty of which was taken away by the clutter.
“Here, the kitchen is this way!” he said, suddenly cheerful again. He led me down a stuffy hallway, just as cluttered as the foyer, though with books and boxes rather than shoes and jackets. There were so many doors and branching halls that I couldn’t keep track of where we were, and as I followed him I began to wonder if I was becoming too lost to find my way out.
If something happened, I was
screwed.
The kitchen was at the back of the house, on the first floor, and the first thing I saw were the dishes. It was as if we had stepped into a dirty dish factory! Soiled dishes were everywhere: stacked in the sink, on the table, on the counters. And the smell hit me next. I nearly gagged. A feeling of dread descended in my stomach, a mix from the thought of cleaning it all and the thought that someone had let this happen.
“Well, you get to it, then,” he said. “I’m starving!”
I whirled around, rushing to the door just as he swept out. As I looked out, I gasped, not seeing him anywhere. He had disappeared! He must’ve been able to run like a track star! “I--” I gritted my teeth and yelled after him. “I’ll need a week just to wash the
dishes!”
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