My house was on the end of the main street along with many of the mansions that lined that road. I opened the gates of my house and walked through the front yard. In the front yard, there were two fountains that were spread around a large garden of roses that were tended by our gardener. The roses were shipped from Section Asia/Europe because our section doesn’t grow anything. On the outside, my house was a wide and tall two story house that would look like the ancient greek parthenon if if it was used as a home that housed a billionaire. After walking literally half a mile through the front yard, I finally reached the front door. There was a handprint lock on the front door and I had to wait for the scanner to let me in. I placed my palm on the front door on until I heard a soft click and the door popped open. The front door was this intricate shaded glass door that had glass roses wrapping around it which I though was quite an overkill since the rest of our house was quite shabby. I stepped onto the shiny marble floor in the inside of of my house. The interior of my house was a typical modern home with the typical glassy surfaces and smooth silver lightings. With no one home, my home still stank of yelling matches. I could almost hear the fights that had plagued this house. As I made my way to my room I ignored the dead bouquet of “I miss you” flowers that sat atop the marble countertop and turned my back on the Mother’s day card that was covered in a layer of dust on the kitchen mantle. My room was on the left side of the third floor amidst all the rooms that only housed dust mites. As I hiked up the two sets of stars, I was hit by a blast of memories that almost knocked me backwards off the stairs.
I was suddenly six again.  mommy and daddy were downstairs fighting again as my brother and I crept stealthily down to the first floor. Our younger siblings were already upstairs sleeping, but my older brother demanded that I had to spy on mother and father with him. I have three younger siblings, a younger brother, and two little sisters. Our parents weren’t around a lot, so it was just me and my older brother taking care of the little ones. My older brother is 12, my little sisters are 2 and my youngest brother is only 1. I once asked my older brother why mommy and daddy were gone so much and why they weren’t around to take care of us like other parents. “They love money more than their own children’ he replied bitterly. But the times that mom and dad are home together, they are always fighting. My older brother says that they would divorce if they didn’t care so much about their rep. I don’t know what a rep is but it must be something important to keep them together. We sat on the stairs and ate the chocolate he stole from the kitchen and tried to eavesdrop on their conversation. Mommy and daddy were fighting about us. Suddenly I felt like crying. I know it’s only for babies but I couldn’t help it. I don’t want mommy and daddy to not be together anymore. If mommy and daddy split, I will also have to split with my brother and sisters. Tears started to form in eyes as I prepared for a full round-house sob. I hope mommy and daddy’s “rep” is really important. I sobbed into my brother’s shoulder as I ate the chocolate. “I don’t want mommy and daddy to fight!”, I bawled. “It’s okay, they’re not going to go away anymore”, he whispered. But I didn’t really believe it because he didn’t sound like he believed what he was saying. “And you look really stupid you know, you’re drooling saliva coated with chocolate.” I instantly cheered up. My brother could do things like that.
Then I was suddenly thirteen and my mom had came back from her fashion show. “Come down right now! All of you!”, my mother screeched from the kitchen. Ugh. Mother was in a bad mood again. My brother and I were in the rec room playing video games against each other and my younger siblings were gathered up in the library updating their social statuses on their tablets. I usually couldn’t relate to my younger siblings because they are like mother and father. They love social networking, impressing other people and work really hard on trying to be popular, but I don’t get what the point is of that. So what if you have a million followers in social networking? do you think it’s fun? I think I relate more to my older brother. He’s nineteen now, but we get along really well. We both enjoy the same things and we have more topics to discuss. We take more to our grandparents who were low-life farmers in the east coast. We were raised by our grandparents when we were little because mother and father were gone too much. They are the average old, wrinkled loving grandparents that bakes you cookies and knits sweaters for you. They passed away after my little sisters were born. I really doubt my mother and father would be that kind of grandparents when one of my siblings have kids. Sigh. My brother and I left our video game devices and trudged down to the kitchens where our pissed off mother was waiting for us. But in the middle of walking down the last set of stars, I tripped and I landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. I saw the bone jutting out of the skin of my ankle and immediately freaked out. I was surrounded by a puddle of blood and I probably looked disheveled because I could still feel the hatred of mother’s cold glare as she looked down at me and yelled in my face, “What do you think you’re doing? No daughter of mine looks like this either at home or in public. Get your act together, Your mascara is running.” All I saw last before I blacked out, either from lack of blood, mother’s burn, or the sight of my open fractured ankle, was my older brother and mother having a yelling match and my younger siblings taking photos of me and texting. Then my father walked in, looked down at me and the last thing I heard was him saying “Someone get this mess of the tiles, she’s staining the marble floor!”
I snapped out of my trance and tried to regain my balance by waving my arms backwards in a frantic motion. Not a very graceful move but it helped. I finished walking up the marble staircase and  walked into the hallway on the third floor. it wasn’t much. A couple expensive portraits lined the hallway and the hallway also had a few dusty busts. As I walked down to my room, I passed my older brother’s room. Just for the fun of it I opened the door. There was a lock on it but my brother added my handprint on the lock so I could go into his room anytime and he could go into mine. I pressed my hand against the cold, shiny metal of the door and I waited for it as it clicked open. his room was lined with anime posters and old manga books lay on the floor. The four-poster bed was squished in the loft of the second floor of his bedroom. The room looked as if nobody had touched it in three years. I sighed. What am I doing? There is no point to this. He’s never coming back. He has been gone for three years already. There is no chance he is going to catch a plane and fly back. I don’t need to check his room every time I come back home. I took one last glance before I opened the door to let myself out. a pile of ashes lay in a bin on the mantle above the large fireplace.. I smiled. I remember him coming back from boarding school on that day.
“I’m finally down with that crappy school!”, he yawned as he took his boarding school uniform from his suitcase. Let’s do the ritual together. “What ritual?”, I asked. I really was curious. “Just watch me. When it’s your turn I’ll be there to give you support.” he grinned wickedly as he started an artificial fire.  “I’ll give you the honor of cutting my uniform up first before we burn it.” He handed me the uniform and a pair of scissors. As ordered, I hacked up the uniform into shreds and watched as he threw it into the fire. We watched as the fire ate of the uniform and laughed when the uniform became nothing but ashes.  I couldn’t wait for my turn then. “don’t worry, your time will come. I will accompany you then!”, he smiled and we enjoyed that moment together.
Sigh. That was right before he left. I walked out the door and shut it behind me. I walked to my room. I had to unlock the door but as I stepped inside, I noticed something was wrong. My room was neatly organized but there was an odd tinge to it. like someone had been in my room. The sunlight already started shining through the large glass windows that were placed in the back of the room so I didn’t need to turn on my light. I slowly crept up the stair up to my loft and stopped because there was already someone there. The person’s back was turned so I couldn’t figure out who it was but I took out of phone and clicked the emergency app just in case I needed it. The person slowly turned and I gasped in surprise.