His grandmother's house was filled with relatives, the smell of roasting turkey, and the clatter of clattering, boiling pots, gossip, and The Game. Every room had it's own dynamic, conversation, and purpose, and it was to the point that you had to scream just to hear yourself speak - which didn't help with the volume. This is what happened when the Woods had a Thanksgiving, and what generally brought everyone closer was interrupted by a loud screaming. Well, only for him at least, as he stood in the door-frame between the dinning room and living room where THE MEN (4 girls included) were watching TV on every piece of furniture that could be moved in front of the television. (A TV which Uncle Jack Harris had bought 2 Thanksgivings ago as a 'gift' but really was for watching the game in "crystal" HD). All other furniture was reserved for the dinning room which was being set by the children to pitch in and always drove Melvin crazy as she sniffled and set every piece of silverware sideways. Nothing like catching the flu from a 5 year old for the holidays' He thought. At least his midterms were over.

While he stood, having tried to invest himself in watching the game, he had become to figety, and had moved to the doorframe, trying to figure out places he could move away for a breather. He tried the bathroom, but not 3 minutes later, his aunt Quin had knocked needing to use the restroom. That was the problem with old houses. Not enough bathrooms. No place for privacy.

Another shrill scream came from the upstairs, and he curled his hands into his sleeves of his college hoodie, taking a deep breath in and out. He loved the holidays, and tradition had always been his grandmother's home, but he hadn't liked it since he was young. She was always screaming, making noise up in the attic. It had been hard to sleep. To think. Luckily it was noisy now, but she's shout and moan every once in a while, making him tip over a glass or drop a chip.

He needed some fresh air.

Turning, he slipped through the hallway, sped up past the basement door, around to where the laundry room was, and then out the back to the porch. It was much too cold for anyone to be outside without a jacket, and he shut the door quickly before anyone noticed it was open. His breath floated before him, and he wished he could have managed to jab his jacket without having been notice, but it was too late for that now.

"Cold out."

He turned sharply, looking over to his sister pressed against the side of the house where the snow hadnlt' piled up, and smoking a cigarette.

"You should have brought a jacket." He told her, leaning against the side of the house and watching her from the corner of his eyes as the snow fell slowly.

"Don't start. I'm stuck in a kitchen with every mother telling me what to do." She adjusted the knitted blanket she stollen from inside, adjusting it about her shoulders.

"Is that why you're out here smoking?" He asked, breathing into his hands and rubbing them together.

" Grand said I'm old enough to decide how I want to wreak my body, but she decides what goes under her roof so I have to ruin myself outside. Just think what I'd be doing out here if my boyfriend actually had managed to come?" She smiled around her filter.

"Oh come on. Brother here. I don't need to here that." She shook his head as if trying to dislodge the image of his older sister being intimate with some douche of a guy our here in the cold.

Sophie laughed, reaching out to nudge him. "Come on. I bet you're doing all types of nasty with your girlfriend. Mia, is it?"

He leaned his head back. letting it hit the siding as he looked up at some rather dangerous looking icecycles. "We broke up."

"Ohh. I'm sorry. I thought you two were hitting it off." She took another puff of her cigarrette to think, and to allow a moment of silence. While she exhaled, he breathed in, and tried not to think about it too hard even though he wished they had made it far enough to show her to his parents "What happened?"

"We had....different ideas of what a relationship together would be like. Had a big fight, and then she just sorta......just never wanted to get back together." She had the idea that they would have a normal level of intimacy and he - proved her wrong. "I ******** up." He admitted, reaching his hands up to blow into them again.

"I'm sorry," She tapped her smoke, and he looked at her in a way that said, once again, he wished she would quit. "But you're in college. Plenty of ladies out there. Still in your prime."

"You sound like an old bag." He teased with a smile, and she nudged him again. "....but thanks for keeping Mia a secret. I didn't want to show her to the family until I was sure. It makes us breaking up easier. Now I don't have the entire household wondering what happened."

"No problem. I know how it can be like. At least you don't have mom asking when you're going to have kids. She thought I scared Chase away from Thanksgiving. I tried to get him to show, but his family is going through some things and he needed to be there." She frowned at her smoke before popping it into her mouth and taking a deep inhale as she pouted.

"That serious about him?"

She shrugged her shoulders as she blew smoke out her nose. Again, Melvin really wished she's stop smoking.

"Think he might be....the one?" He tested.

She took out her smoke and exchanged it to her other hand, stuffing the other one inside her hoodie pouch to keep it warm as best she could. "Maybe." She whispered, and he left her a moment as he turned and looked back out across the lawn to the woods.

"What has you out here? Game not exciting enough?"

"Oh....well....I couldn't really concentrate. A bit - loud in there." He never liked being in this house, and wished they had taken his aunt's plea to have it at her place on the basis that was bigger. "I must be just a little - stress." Never would he have used the word 'stressed' around his parents. It made them worry. Stress meant regression. It meant odd habits.

Sophie took her smoke out, concerned. "Did you...see anything?"

He shook his head. "Just...hearing things. Upstairs. In the attic again." He watched her with uncerainty as she looked to him, and then looked up, listening a moment as if she could hear it on her own. She never did, and he knew she woudln't, but it was always habit for her to try. For all the times he had told her of shadows and shapes, she always glanced in that direction. In the past, he wondered if she was trying to look to see if he was crazy or lying. It wasn't till later that she told him she had just been hoping to catch a glimpse. It was one of the reasons he still told her, the only person he told, about what really bothered him. It had been a rule not to entertain his hallucinations - a personal perscription given to hsi family to treat him better. Sophie never listened.

Turning about, she dropped her cigarette into a empty tin of canberry sauce..

"I see grandma is still making her cranberry sauce from scratch." He whispered, moving away from the conversation.

"Yeah, and it's just as can-shaped and bouncy as ever. Wish cooking the rest of it was as easy as using a can opener. Wish we could just order this all." She paused, before patting him. "Hey, we got a mad stack of dishes piling up and all the hens have been putting it off. Wanna help us out since you're already missing the game?"

"Dirty dishes.....in the kitchen?" A room full of all the women in their households. He could only imagine what they would start asking him.

"Here." She pulled out her MP3 player and held it out. "You can put this on and block the sound of clucking."

Eyes on the device and her pink, frozen fingers, he looked back up to her. He knew that she wasn't offering it just for the sound of women talking. Sophie knew he knew too. Smiling, he took it. There was no need to say thank you.

"So how bad are the dishes?" He asked, regarding the ear buds and already planning to clean them off when he got inside.

"Oh. Crusty and just caked on. Just piles of it." She exaggerated, and he already felt like rolling up his sleeves.

"Great." He smiled, and moved to open the door for her, pausing to look at the MP3.

"What music do you have anyways?"

"Uh.. Britney Spears. Some Backstreet Boys. Oldies. I think there is some NewAge Jazz Fusion in there too. What's that look for?!!"

"I was just thinking if I wanted to hear this or the screaming from the attic?"

She slapped his shoulder and stepped inside, and Melvin followed after, glad for having a older sister.

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