The Intruder

It was late when you drove into your old hometown, back from college at long last. Past the ice cream stand you used to visit on hot afternoons, past the sports stadium where you stole your first kiss and your old middle school - didn't miss that one.

A few turns off the main road and there was your house. Three stories, dull yellow paint. You couldn't wait to see your family, your mom and two stepsisters - clever Alice and outgoing, sporty Melanie. The gravel drive crunched reassuringly familiar under your tires as you pulled up.

You got the first round of your things and went in, stepping over the bad stair. Money had been tight since dad died, a succession of boarders rotating through your home for your entire high school career. You open the door and are immediately tackled-hugged by your big stepsister.

"You're home! I can't believe it! You took so long! We waited and waited! So much has happened and you need to hear all about it, and-"

"Breathe, Melanie. Just breathe."

She rolls her eyes and makes some exaggerated breathing noises while you politely ignore the things it does to her chest.

"Happy? Did you eat on the way? Mom saved you some leftovers."

"I did, thanks. It was a long drive and I figured I couldn't possibly make it for dinner."

She blows a cheek, clearly frustrated. But helps you with your bags. Inside, Alice is mopping up the kitchen, a surprise to be sure, you've never known the pampered youngest child to willingly clean anything. She drops what she's doing to give you a hug though, and both girls start asking you questions about school and campus life.

It might be your imagination, but seeing the two of them together like this something feels... off. Like their smiles don't quite reach their eyes. **** back the weird feelings you ask about your mom.

"She went to bed early. She's been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently." Alice said.

"God, yes," Melanie agreed. "Ma- Mr. Erickson has been a huge help with that."

"Who?"

Melanie opened her mouth, but Alice was faster. "Mr. Erickson is the latest boarder. He's been here, what, eight months? Very handy around the house, always has time to listen to your troubles, and is helping mom with her insomnia."

"He's the best!" Melanie interjected. "I was going through some stuff and he really, really helped."

Huh. You feel a twinge of jealousy at this stranger horning in on your family, then tell yourself that's silly. You haven't been here, so it can only be good that somebody else stepped up.

You got your things upstairs, only to find to your surprise that your room has been painted pink, and had a few posters of boy bands. Melanie shrugged and said they'd forgotten, a tween girl had stayed here a while back while you were in school. She wished you a good night and sauntered off to her room.

Before crashing, or unpacking, you resolved to check on your mom. If only to help with your weird feelings. You knocked gently on her door before easing it open, and saw your mother kneeling on the floor mouthing something to herself. Her long black hair hidden by a helmet looking almost like a steel colander, covered in rapidly blinking lights.

"Has no one in this house heard of knocking!" A nasally voice says. You look down to see the shortest, most repulsive person you've ever seen. Huge ears and nose, hairy and unkept to the point you wonder if he's showered in his life. You gape, too stunned to point out you did knock, and point wordlessly at where your mother is still kneeling and staring off in the distance, unaware of her own son.

"Buzz off, kid. I'll get to you later." The door slammed in your face, leaving you grappling with just who that was, and what was going on. You had a quick shower and went to bed, but sleep didn't come easily.