shriek and jump up as two bulldogs suddenly come charging towards the chain link fence and start barking and growling viciously.
Anna bursts out laughing, “I should have warned you about them, they always do that.”
“Great, just what you need as a welcome home.” I let out a sigh as my heart rate slowly returns to normal.
I look to my right and see both dogs staring at us with their top lips pulled up to display a dangerous set of teeth. They move with us step by step as we walk past, a growl still emanating from their throats, dribble slowly dripping down their chin.
I grab Anna’s hand and start walking a little bit faster.
In front of the third home, I have to step over two used needles that are discarded on the road, from inside the home I can hear swearing.
By the time we walk past the seventh mobile home, my nerves are on edge. No child should grow up around here. I can hear yelling and swearing all around us now, I even heard glass shatter loudly after hearing someone used the f-word way too many times in one sentence.
Suddenly Anna abruptly stops moving.
“What's wrong?” I ask, after bumping into her.
She points at a shiny black BMW, looking very much out of place in an area like this, “that car was there when I climbed out of the window and left.”
“So, that’s your home?” I ask, looking at the house the car’s parked in front of.
She just nods, and then slowly starts moving towards it.
There's a metal chain-linked fence around the garden, just like many of the other homes here, giving off a feeling of small individual prisons. The lawn is overgrown with grass and weeds, rusty garden chairs and old weather damaged toys are discarded all over the place.
Once we reach the gate, she cautiously opens it. It screeches loudly, and a siren of barks goes off all around us.
She looks terrified as we walk up the narrow path, so I carefully lay a hand on her shoulder. “It's okay, I’ll make sure nothing will happen to you,” I whisper to her.
Anna's hand trembles as she reaches for the door handle.
“Wait. Go stand behind me,” I tell her, reaching for her arm to stop her. And she quickly does.
I can feel my pulse racing as the door handle moves down underneath my palm. I open it inch by inch and as soon as it's far enough opened to have a peek inside I quickly glance in. I’m looking directly into the kitchen. All the lights are on, but no-one seems to be inside. Opening the door fully I step inside. The kitchen smells of stale tobacco, alcohol and burnt toast.
Looking at the kitchen table confirms it, the ashtray is overflowing with a mountain of cigarette butts, some even lying on the table, and there are almost a dozen beer cans lined along the window.
I turn to Anna, and am just about to say that I don't think anyone’s inside, when I hear a loud moan coming from my left. I snap my head in the direction of the sound and take a defensive stance in front of Anna, but all I see are two closed doors.
Listening closer I hear panting and more moaning. Then I hear not one, but two male voices.
“We're not staying here,” I whisper, turning to Anna. Quickly I back out of the house and quietly close the door behind me.
I grab her hand and start rushing her down the path away from her house, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. This whole place is making me feel uncomfortable.
“What time does Rick finish at the market?” I ask as I drag her onto the road without closing the gate behind us.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay,” I look at my watch, it’s nearly four now and I know the market normal closes around this time. “Lets try anyway. Maybe we can still find him there.”
As we walk back out of the trailer park she grabs for my hand and I can feel her stiffen a bit. I look down at her, and then follow the direction of her gaze. There are two men talking in the shadows of one of the gardens. One of the men clearly has a gun strapped to the belt of
Anna bursts out laughing, “I should have warned you about them, they always do that.”
“Great, just what you need as a welcome home.” I let out a sigh as my heart rate slowly returns to normal.
I look to my right and see both dogs staring at us with their top lips pulled up to display a dangerous set of teeth. They move with us step by step as we walk past, a growl still emanating from their throats, dribble slowly dripping down their chin.
I grab Anna’s hand and start walking a little bit faster.
In front of the third home, I have to step over two used needles that are discarded on the road, from inside the home I can hear swearing.
By the time we walk past the seventh mobile home, my nerves are on edge. No child should grow up around here. I can hear yelling and swearing all around us now, I even heard glass shatter loudly after hearing someone used the f-word way too many times in one sentence.
Suddenly Anna abruptly stops moving.
“What's wrong?” I ask, after bumping into her.
She points at a shiny black BMW, looking very much out of place in an area like this, “that car was there when I climbed out of the window and left.”
“So, that’s your home?” I ask, looking at the house the car’s parked in front of.
She just nods, and then slowly starts moving towards it.
There's a metal chain-linked fence around the garden, just like many of the other homes here, giving off a feeling of small individual prisons. The lawn is overgrown with grass and weeds, rusty garden chairs and old weather damaged toys are discarded all over the place.
Once we reach the gate, she cautiously opens it. It screeches loudly, and a siren of barks goes off all around us.
She looks terrified as we walk up the narrow path, so I carefully lay a hand on her shoulder. “It's okay, I’ll make sure nothing will happen to you,” I whisper to her.
Anna's hand trembles as she reaches for the door handle.
“Wait. Go stand behind me,” I tell her, reaching for her arm to stop her. And she quickly does.
I can feel my pulse racing as the door handle moves down underneath my palm. I open it inch by inch and as soon as it's far enough opened to have a peek inside I quickly glance in. I’m looking directly into the kitchen. All the lights are on, but no-one seems to be inside. Opening the door fully I step inside. The kitchen smells of stale tobacco, alcohol and burnt toast.
Looking at the kitchen table confirms it, the ashtray is overflowing with a mountain of cigarette butts, some even lying on the table, and there are almost a dozen beer cans lined along the window.
I turn to Anna, and am just about to say that I don't think anyone’s inside, when I hear a loud moan coming from my left. I snap my head in the direction of the sound and take a defensive stance in front of Anna, but all I see are two closed doors.
Listening closer I hear panting and more moaning. Then I hear not one, but two male voices.
“We're not staying here,” I whisper, turning to Anna. Quickly I back out of the house and quietly close the door behind me.
I grab her hand and start rushing her down the path away from her house, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. This whole place is making me feel uncomfortable.
“What time does Rick finish at the market?” I ask as I drag her onto the road without closing the gate behind us.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay,” I look at my watch, it’s nearly four now and I know the market normal closes around this time. “Lets try anyway. Maybe we can still find him there.”
As we walk back out of the trailer park she grabs for my hand and I can feel her stiffen a bit. I look down at her, and then follow the direction of her gaze. There are two men talking in the shadows of one of the gardens. One of the men clearly has a gun strapped to the belt of
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