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This wasn’t normal. Nothing was very normal to Lydia lately, especially not after finding out she is a freaking Banshee, but this, this was very unnatural. Usually when she left the house and ended up somewhere completely different, no recollection of coming to wherever she found herself, she found a body. However, this time, there was no body to be found. There was nobody to be found. Just seemingly normal houses, normal save for the screams and shouts that spilled out of one in particular. She turned around nervously, she knew the area well, and it was the street where Jackson used to live.
With a shaky breath, Lydia walked up the pathway to the front door on trembling legs. There were no lights on, the house looked unkempt and the grass grew unruly. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized that this was turning into another night at Motel California. The door creaked open, clearly the police didn’t see any reason to lock it.
Through the darkness, she could make out the tacky tags left by graffiti “artists”, phalluses and swears spread on every surface available. If she wasn’t as scared as she was, she would have laughed at their poor effort at originality; however she could still hear the conversation that quickly escalated into fury filled screams.
She found herself finally drawn to what she assumed to be the kitchen. The abandoned table stood there, collecting dust.
It was a conversation about, what she assumed to be, a young man’s grades.
“A D.” The voice, a familiar voice, said, fear beneath his words. Lydia strained her ears, waiting for the boy to speak again; instead she was met with the sound of plates smashing. She felt as if she was the boy, backing away from the voice until her back was pressed against the wall.
Her breathing was laboured from the fear and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, hot and burning. She thought she heard someone laugh, then the sound of something flying through the air and shattering by her ear.
Lydia let out a scream, legs buckling as she dropped to the ground, arms over her head. The voices softened until they were no more, and Lydia was left alone in the house. Isaac’s house.
She stayed there, trembling for what felt like hours, till she heard the door creak open. Lydia jumped in her skin, pushing herself further into the wall, hoping to melt and never be found. The sound of boots on the floor came to her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut; if she can’t see them, they can’t see her.
“Lydia…?” The voice was soft and concerned, but that same under layer of fear could be heard. The house unnerved this person as well. “Lydia, it’s okay, come on…”
Her eyes opened, frightened green eyes locking onto his similarly terrified blue ones. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a nervous smile. He looked tired, dark bags beneath his eyes, hair a mess. He held out a hand and she watched as it shook ever so slightly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and took it, holding tight as she pulled herself to her feet. She could feel how uncomfortable he was just being here, not that it was really surprising. Lydia wasn’t sure what made her do it, her and Isaac weren’t really friends, but she couldn’t help herself when she reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry.” She said. His arms wrapped themselves around her; he felt so strong, like he could snap her in half, but his hold on her was soft. He didn’t say much, just muttered a “it’s okay” back to her, and buried his face in her red hair; Lydia didn’t want to admit it, but her heart skipped a beat when he did. Wow, Lydia, how romantic, she chided herself.
Isaac pulled himself away from her after a moment or two, giving her a half-hearted, lopsided smile. “We should probably go…” She gave him a nod in return, wrapping her arm around his, letting him escort her out of the house.