Fiction Friday - Going Home

Jaden moved her car down the long gravel drive, feeling her foot lighten on the gas pedal as the house drew near. The lighter her pressure on the pedal, the tighter the knot in her stomach grew. The house now loomed huge in her windshield. It cast an ominous shadow over the lawns around it. 

Maybe she should have visited her parents sooner, or helped them when they moved here to Great Aunt Marla’s old house.

The car stopped, but Jaden didn’t move. She sat. Chewing her lip. Staring at the big green Victorian structure. Dormer windows, shades half-way down, stared back at her. The minutes lengthened. Who would flinch first? 

“What?” The thought broke Jaden out of her trance. “Ridiculous.” 

Still, what would she find inside? Were her parents okay? That weird phone call had thrown Jaden for a loop, no doubt about it. So here she was. Better get this over with. The sooner she saw her parents and verified all was well, the sooner she could meet Joaquin in New Orleans. The thought lightened her heart. A smile brightened her face and a happy sigh escaped. 

She laughed at herself. If Joaquin could see her now! She shook her head and pushed open the car door, sitting there for another minute. Joaquin. Well, she’ll have stories for him later. 

She breathed deep, not yet committing to closing the car door. Pine and humus assaulted her senses as if the house was exhaling it in her direction. All was quiet. “Hmm…,” she thought. “That’s odd.” Back home, her parents would at least come to the porch when a car approached. 

But this wasn’t her home. She didn't know this house. Maybe the house buried sound. Maybe they honestly hadn’t heard her car. Maybe they were both in the back, far away from the noise of tires crunching on the gravel drive. She slammed the car door loud, hoping to draw some attention as she walked up to the house. 

Nothing. 

As she climbed the steps to the broad front porch, she considered calling out. No. The house was quiet. They may not be home. Her hand raised to knock on the door. What, and who, would be inside?

It's FICTION FRIDAY!

Every Almost every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. Today's fiction was "flash" when I wrote it in my writing group a month ago. It is now a part of my current NaNoWriMo project. Does it make you want to know more about the story?

If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment.