The world is black and white. A fleet of thick, asymmetrical clouds bathe the land below in grayscale, dulling the lush green under my boots, but not the fierce sapphire of my companion's hair. We had walked out into the backyard where I found that the previous owners had left behind a swing set. Heather and I sat beside one another on the adjacent seats, gripping the chains suspending us in our hands as one instinctively does.

"So," Heather began with a welcoming smile, "let's break the ice."

"Sure."

"I absolutely love your hair! Those pigtails and bangs rule. Honestly, your whole goth look rules," she said. Every time her pink lips parted, they revealed glimpses of a perfect set of white teeth.

"Thanks, back at you. I really like your blue hair and your bangs."

"Aw, thanks! But really, did anyone ever tell you that you look like—"

"Abby from NCIS?" I interjected.

"Sure, but I was actually thinking more of an anime character."

"Oh," I laughed. "Maybe once or twice. I do love anime, so thanks. Glad you're cool with the look and don't think I'm a Satanist or something."

"I'd think you were cooler if you were," she said, a cheeky grin spread across her face.

"Well, that's good to know."

She chuckled and held out a hand to me. "Heather Matthews."

I shook her hand and replied, "Jennifer Dooley. Just Jen, though, please."

"Jen it is! So, mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure."

Heather stroked the discolored chains with her thumbs and spoke, her demeanor somewhat absentminded. "I heard you and your mom going at it pretty hard before. What's with that?"

She heard that? Well, I guess we were talking pretty loud with the door wide open.

"Oh, um..."

"Private?" she asked.

"It's just... stupid. This whole situation is." I replied.

"I'm all ears."

She looked at me with sympathetic, yet excited, piercing blue eyes. I get the sense she's a bit of a gossip, but I guess that's the reality of living in a place where nothing interesting ever happens. I usually prefer to keep my private life private, but she had already heard some of what I said anyway. And to be honest, I've never really had a friend before. I've kept this all inside so long that it might be nice to unload some of this frustration to someone else for once.

"It's a long story," I started. "But the gist of it is that my dad was abusing me and my mom for years. He finally took things too far and punched me so hard I cracked my skull. Now he's in jail, my mom is still pining for him, and I'm just sick of everything. There you go, that's my tale."

Heather's eyes grew larger the more I spoke, and she visibly recoiled when I mentioned my head injury. "Holy shit... That's heavy, Jen. Is your head still cracked right now?"

"Technically, yeah. Supposedly almost healed up."

"Wow, you've been through a lot. I'm sorry that all happened to you." She rubbed my back gently as she consoled me.

"It's not your fault, Heather. But it's nice to hear that from someone besides my two-faced mother."

"Is this what brought you two to Redville?" she asked. "People like you don't usually come to a place like this."

"Yeah," I confirmed. "My mom grew up here, so she dragged me out to this place while they work out their divorce."

"That makes sense. So, what do you think of it so far?"

"No offense to you, but this place is a shithole."

Heather erupted into laughter and grinned at me. "You're so blunt, Jen. I love it. We're birds of a 'no bullshit' feather."

"That's certainly a way to put it," I laughed. "The house is nice, though, I guess. Well, on the inside, at least. I'm still shocked my mom was able to get a place like this for so cheap, but I guess the one compliment I'll pay this place is how cheap everything is."

Heather just stared at me like I had grown a second head.

"What?" I asked.

"Holy shit, you really don't know, do you?"

She seemed both completely shocked and slightly amused at my confusion.

"Uh, what are you talking about?"

"Hate to say it, but 'mommy' lied to you, Jen. The houses around here aren't as expensive as most other places, I'm sure, but that's definitely not why you two got this house so cheap."

"Okay...? Care to explain?"

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Heather leaned in close to me and ushered for me to do the same. I did so, growing a bit anxious for some reason.

"The family that used to live here was our old neighbors, the Millers," Heather said, in a whisper. "Typical family, mother, father, and two sons our age. Anyway, they took off in the middle of the night one day last year. Left all their shit behind and everything."

"So, like, they just left and never came back?" I asked.

Her lips curved into an unstable smirk, like she was trying to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, they never came back because they turned up in pieces on the side of the road not too far from here."

My blood ran cold, and I nearly choked mid-swallow as a lump abruptly materialized in my throat.

"What...?" I asked in disbelief.

"Wild, right? Yeah, rumor has it the parents owed some money to the wrong people or something. But yeah. Mother, father, both sons, all of them were chopped to pieces and left on the side of the road heading out of town. They found their car all charred up some ways away too," Heather said. "That's why your house was so cheap. No one in their right mind wanted the place after that—except your mom, I guess. They hauled out all their stuff, cleaned out the inside, and left it like that till now."

I just stared down at the grass as I came to grips with what Heather said.

I mean, what the hell, mom?!

How could she move us into the home of a dead—no, murdered family without telling me anything?

"Are you okay?" Heather asked.

"How could I be? Why wouldn't she tell something like that? How could she even live in a place like this?"

"Well, maybe she didn't think it was a big deal. You should ask her yourself."

"Oh, I plan to," I said. "But what about you? Did you know them? What happened when you found out?"

Heather sighed and looked up at the sky. The clouds were still smothering the sun in their bloated masses. "I did. They were nice people, but after a while, their sons started to become... unpleasant."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Just rude, and stuff. I don't know how to explain it. We were good friends, and then they just changed one day, disappeared and turned up dead. It all happened so fast. Life keeps moving, you know?"

"That seems a bit cold," I said.

"Maybe, but I can't overstate how mean they became towards me in the end. I guess I just have to 'not care' to cope with the fact that, you know, someone brutally murdered them. I don't know, it's all so crazy."

The two of us went quiet for a bit and I rubbed her shoulder gently to show my support for her this time. I'm having a hard time dealing with this just knowing it happened in the house I'm supposed to live in, I can only imagine how she feels having actually known the victims. How could anyone do something so horrific to another human being, let alone a whole family? Then again, maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. Disgusting acts of human violence is exactly why I'm in this place now, right?

As we sat in silence, a frog emerged from the grass, hopping out of a particularly thick section and right between the two of us on the ground below.

"Whoa, check it out!" Heather said. "Where did this little guy come from?"

"No clue, I didn't even hear any croaking."

"These things are so damn cute," she said. "I used to love dissecting them when I was younger."

I looked at her with an expression that made her do a double take. "Uh, really? That's not what I was expecting you to say at all. Most people hate having to do that kind of stuff in school."

"I'm not like most people," she said, proudly. "People make a big deal out of nothing. I enjoyed it, anyway."

"Speaking of school," I started, "what's the high school like, anyway?"

"Oh, Jen. If you hated Redville already, you're about to hate it even more."

That's not ominous at all!

"Sounds real fun," I said.

"What can I say? You weren't wrong before. This place sucks and I can't wait for the day I get out of here. That school embodies everything wrong with Redville. Everyone is nosey and just loves trying to tell you what to do and how to live your life. Shithole indeed."

It was honestly a massive relief to hear that sentiment from her. I was afraid that she would turn out to be the type that viewed this place as some sort of misunderstood haven or whatever. But knowing that she saw it for what I always knew it was made me feel a bit more relaxed around her.

"Guess I'm going to have a ball there, then."

"Don't worry about it too much," she said, grasping my hand. "I'll look out for you. What kind of friend would I be if I left you to the wolves?"

Friend, huh? I could get used to that.

I smiled and squeezed her hand in my own. "Thanks, Heather. It means a lot."

"Don't mention it, Jen. Oh, hey! Let's exchange numbers so we can stay in touch. I imagine you're going to be pretty bored tonight with the lack of stuff in your house and all that..."

"Oh, sure. Yeah, our stuff isn't coming till tomorrow, so it could be fun to text or whatever."

We entered our contact information into our respective phones, and Heather's mom, Melissa, began shouting from the back door.

"Come on, honey! We have to let these folks unpack!"

"Coming!" Heather replied. She hopped off the swing and turned to me. "See you later, Jen. Don't forget to text me."

And with that, my new friend and her family bid mom and I farewell. We shut the doors and stepped into the living room. A pile of bags lay neatly placed in the middle of the room, ready to be unloaded.

"How did it go? Did you two get along?" mom asked, excitement in her voice. I folded my arms and just shook my head at her which drew a confused expression. "What?"

"You lied to me."

"I lied?"

"Yes, when you said houses were always cheap around here. Unless what you really meant to say was that whole families regularly end up dismembered in Redville. I guess I see how that would lower the property values."

She sighed heavily and grabbed the bridge of her nose. "Jen, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to lie or keep secrets from you, but we needed something fast, and it's not like what happened actually took place in this house, so I thought—"

"Thought what?" I interrupted. "That it wouldn't bother me? Why doesn't it bother you?"

"Of course it bothers me! But I had to think of you first. We needed a place to go, we have one now. Please understand that."

"Oh my god," I said, raising my voice in frustration. "You apologize for one lie just to go and do it again! Stop saying this stupid decision was for me. It wasn't, it was for you!"

She folded her lips and narrowed her eyes at me. A sarcastic chuckle left her throat, and she ran an irritated hand through her brown hair. "Mm-hm."

"What, so you admit you dragged me to this place for you and not me?"

"You know what? Yes, I do. I've been through enough, okay? This is where I want to spend the rest of my life. If you don't like that, I'm sorry. I really, really am. But you'll never be happy with anything I do because you hate me."

"Are you seriously trying to turn this around on me?!" I yelled. "I don't hate you. How could you even say that? Stop acting like I don't have a reason to be upset with you. My whole life has been one big mess because of your fuck ups and I'm the bad guy for having the nerve to be disgruntled about it?"

Mom looked overcome with anger and raised her hand to my face suddenly, ready to slap me, but she stopped short when I flinched and reflexively guarded my head between my arms. Against my own will, I whimpered and began to shake violently, tears falling from my eyes as anger, fear, regret, and sadness ensnared me in a cage that paralyzed my movements.

"Oh my god... Jen, baby, I'm so sorry!" mom said, immediately bursting into tears of her own. She reached out to wrap her arms around me, but I shoved her away and ran past her and up the stairs.

Unfamiliar with the second floor, I stumbled into one of the empty rooms and threw the door shut behind me, locking it immediately. I began to sob hysterically as my legs went limp and my body slowly slid down the wall and onto the carpet.

In this empty space, I was seven years old—whimpering and crying like a helpless, pathetic mess all over again.