At the other end of the street

The moderator gave us a phrase and we were free to write about anything that we wanted to. Time given to write was 15 minutes. 

The prompt was : “At the other end of the street”

The fresh cut grass and heavy smell of blueberry pancake was the first thing she realised. Her stomach was growling, ignorant of the loud blaring sound outside. The soft rapt on her door somehow still startled her. She was still not used to having a room with a door all to herself.

‘It’s going to be fine.’ She said to herself over and over, trying to convince the more irrational part of her mind. “Who is it?” her morning voice broke as she spoke.

“It’s just me.” The raspy quiet voice spoke over the door. “Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday. I really really am.” He continued. “Come on, Amy. You have not seen him in years. He did not know.” He said trying to justify the other half of him.

It took her all the strength she had in her fully rested body to come up to the door. “And whose fault is that?” She asked. “Tate, I don’t mind living in the same house with the person that do not even admit to ruining my life, but I don’t appreciate him making a joke out of it. I don’t want any trace of him on me, not even one dead cell.”

Tate just smiled. He knew his twin brother was not the angel his mother thought him to be. He knew what he was covering the whole time he was keeping his own niece soundly in the attic of his house. “He’s gone. He’s going away for a long long time. They found it. They found everything.” He said stepping in the attic, opening the curtain that was shielding the flickering rays from licking the virgin skin of the young innocent being he was shielding from the devil he knew his brother was.