The clinking of dishes and someone scuffling across the floor stirred me awake. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep. Slowly and reluctantly, I blinked my eyes open. The room was cold as usual and all I wanted to do was sink further into the blankets. I shut my eyes and tried to go back to sleep but It was too late. My head was already buzzing with what happened yesterday. The thoughts ate away at my mind until I couldn't stand to lay there anymore.

Propping up on my elbows, I yawned and glanced around the room. My eyes landed on a tray of breakfast sitting on the floor beside me: A bowl of soupy oatmeal, a glass of milk and a plate of what I highly doubt is sausage. Beside the tray laid a bundle of wildflowers and flowery looking weeds tied together with a strand of twine. Is this some sort of peace offering? I plucked a golden dandy-lion from the midst, bringing it up to my nose, and smelling its sweet aroma. Maybe he isn't as angry with me as I thought.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a dark figure crouched on the steps. Bubba peeked around the railing at me and quickly ducked back into his hiding place when he realized I could see him.

"Thank you, Bubs. This is all very sweet of you." I said letting him know I was aware of his presence.

He wrapped his hands around the rails and watched me curiously through the bars. His usual mask donned his face instead of the womanish one he wore yesterday evening. I'm glad he changed into that one. It's less intimidating. Maybe that's because I'm used to seeing it...

"You don't have to hide from me. I'm not mad at you."

He slowly rose to his feet and crept out to where I could see him fully. His normally broad shoulders were hunched forward curling in over his chest as he picked at his fingernails; his eyes refused to leave the floor.

"Come sit with me." I patted a spot on the bed beside me. "We can share breakfast. You know I'll never be able to eat all this by myself."

He drug his feet towards the bed and sat down at the timidly at the foot much farther from me than he normally would. Usually, I have to remind him that personal space is a thing, but today he seems afraid to come near.

"Sorry" he signed, making a fist and rubbing it in circular motions over his chest and still not daring to glance in my direction.

"I know you are," I said with a sigh "and I forgive you."

I took his hand in mine and held it against my chest. His mouth fell agape as he watched me with his dark puppy dog eyes. "I never meant to hurt your feelings. I was just a little surprised, that's all. Now, let's forget all about it. We're still friends, right?"

His face lit up and his sour expression turned into a big grin. "Very good friends," he signed, bouncing up and down giddily and sliding closer to me.

He raked his fingers through my hair smoothing out my tangly bed-head while I forced down the bland watery oatmeal. My eyes were drawn to the crimson stains on the cuffs of his shirt. So, he did come back last night covered in blood?! I thought I'd dreamt it. I can't help but wonder who's blood it is. It's probably best I don't ask; I'm not sure I want to know the answer.

"How about we get this place cleaned up?" I asked after I had finished forcing down breakfast.

I grabbed a broom from beneath the stairs and swept up the shards of glass while he turned all the furniture back upright. After picking up each nicknack and putting it back where I remembered it going, the floor was finally starting to shine through.

An old tin canister rolled across the floor and bumped into my feet. I picked it up and examined the long-faded label that had something to do with coffee. I gave it a shake and listened to whatever was inside thud around. I'm sure Bubba won't mind if I take a peek inside. I can't help I'm nosey.

A stack of black and white Polaroids were nestled snugly inside. I hopped up on the edge of the table and flipped through the vintage photos. I haven't the faintest idea who the people in these are, but they're interesting nonetheless.

A man with slicked-back black hair usually dressed in a suit reoccurred throughout a majority of them. Something about him seemed awfully familiar, but I just couldn't put my finger on what about him it was.

I flipped to another incredibly old photo of a couple on their wedding day. The bride stood in a long empire waist gown that pooled in a small train on the floor. The groom, the same man as in the last photo, stood beside her.

"Who is this man," I asked holding the photo up for Bubba to see. He stopped redecorating the top of his vanity and gave the photo a once over. "Grandpa" he signed.

Oh! So that's where I'd seen him. Gosh, he must have been in his early thirties here. Now he's got to be pushing at least a hundred. That means the woman here must be Bub's grandmother. I assume she's dead considering I've met everyone here except her. Plus, grandpa looks like he's about to croak any minute so It wouldn't surprise me if she was long gone. I wonder if he was just as crazy as the rest of his family is now back in his hay day.

Bubba snatched the picture from my fingers and held it out beside my face. His eyes darted back and forth between me and the photo.

" What is it? " I asked, a little confused by whatever the heck he was doing; reading him can be so difficult at times.

"Bubs, I don't understand," I said as he gently caressed my cheek with his knuckles. He merely laughed and tucked the photo in his shirt pocket.

"Follow me" he signed and led me out of the basement.

The sun shone through the screen door illuminating the house and giving it a warm homey feel. Any unsuspecting person would never guess what horrors occur here on the daily. Grandpa was slumped over in his wheelchair on the porch soaking up the sunshine. Nubbins sat at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor messing with something on his camera. A lens slipped from his fingers and bounced down the steps when he set his eyes on me.

"Holy sh-" he began but stopped abruptly and looked around as if he were expecting Loretta to pop out any moment and scold him to death. "I thought she was dead!"

"Nope, I'm very much alive," I said forcing out a fake laugh and tossing the camera lens back to him.

"Not for much longer," he muttered under his breath but still audible enough for me to hear.

I follow Bubba as he ascended the narrow staircase to the second story. The steps creaked beneath my feet loud enough to alert anyone in the house of our location. I grabbed the banister to steady myself, but it wiggled like a loose tooth beneath my hand. I bet with one good shove the entire railing would come crashing down. Note to self: Don't lean against the rails.

"Where y'all think yer headin'?" Nubbins shouted and threw his arm out blocking our path. " I swear, you better not go into my room! It's off limits! I don't want ya grubby hands touching none of my things."

Bubba waved him off and pushed him out of the way, still dragging me right along with him. I've never been on the second floor before. This is all unfamiliar territory. The steps spit us out into a narrow hall open to the stairs. Three doors stood on the wall opposite the steps and a broken window patched with duct-tape on the wall straight across from us.

Like the rest of the house, the hall was covered in peeling wallpaper and taxidermy. Loretta's voice drifted through one of the cracked open doors. Someone was sitting in a rocking chair facing a window looking out into the front yard. Loretta stood behind the person with a hairbrush in hand, ever so gently brushing out their locks and whispering something to them I couldn't make out. I stepped a bit closer hoping to peek inside, curious as to who it could be.

Bubba grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away, slamming the door closed before I could take a closer look. "Wait here" he signed by holding his hands up and off to the side while slightly wiggling his fingers.

He slipped into the room with his mother and the unknown person, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone in the hall. I could stay here and try to eavesdrop on them, or I could go bother Nubbins...Nubbins it is!

I hiked back down the stairs and took a seat on the step beside him. He furrowed his brow and looked at me like I was crazy for even coming near him.

"You like photography?" I asked trying to break the ice.

"No!" He snapped. " I like takin' pictures."

" That's what photography is, Nubbins. It's the art of 'taking pictures' "

"Oh... then yeah, I guess I do."

"I assume you're also the one who makes all the bone furniture around here.

"What makes ya think that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

" Well, you're the only one around here who seems to give a crap about artsy stuff so I just put two and two together."

"That's cause I do! Bubs and I are kinda like a team. He kills and butchers the meat then I bleach the bones and make all the stuff you see around here. Who knows, maybe one day, when Bubba finally gets sick and tired of ya, I'll take that pretty skin of yours and make it into a lampshade for my bedroom."

...Okay then. I see this conversation isn't going as well as I hoped.

"Gee, thanks, Nubbins! I've always wanted to be a lampshade." I said sarcastically and decided that it's probably best to leave this conversation where it is.

I ventured back up the stairs right on time to see Loretta open the door and let Bubba out of the room. An almost unnaturally wide smile stretched across her face making my blood run cold. She's either REALLY happy about something or she's completely lost her marbles. Either one wouldn't surprise me at this point. Bubba took my hand then glanced towards his mother. She gave him a small nod then slowly shut the door.

Um...that was...weird. What the heck went on in there and why do I have a bad feeling it has something to do with me?