Living with the Wrights, chapter 1
Another crash.
More screaming.
More crying... mainly from my mom.
Then another sound. It was sort of like a bang.
I opened up my eyes and sat up. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and got up. I guess they were just fighting again... they do it all the time. It really gets on my nerves. Ever since my dad started having an affair with his secretary and my older brother Skott moved out, no one ever spoke. It was always yelling or screaming and shouting.
I put on a t-shirt and then walked downstairs, still feeling tired. All the sounds were coming from the kitchen. But there was no sound now... only silence. I went through and screamed. At that moment it felt like my heart stopped. My dad was lying dead on the ground and my mom standing beside him with a gun pointing at the roof of her mouth.
"What the hell happened here?" I screamed.
My mom removed the gun from her mouth and smiled at me, tears running down her cheeks.
"Oh look at you. My baby girl, all grown up," She sighed and hugged me
"Are you crazy? Did you kill him?" I shouted pushing her away.
"Johnny, listen to me. The next few weeks of your life will be crazy, ok? I just want you to know that no matter where you are your father and I will always love you."
"How can you love me if you're both dead?"
"Then that's the way it has to be."
She took a few steps back from me, so that I couldn't stop her.
"I love you," she mouthed and then put the gun back into her mouth.
A few seconds later there was another bang. I blinked. In the short time it took me to blink, she was on the ground, blood everywhere.
I stepped back from the both of them. What was I going to do? Skott was in Paris, my grandparents are all dead and I have no other family. I stepped back until I was against the wall. I slouched down. Still trying to get a hold of what just happened. I looked around me. There were broken plates lying about the place, two dead bodies and a gun. Hardly suspicious... not. I mean, I knew that mom had cracked but this was just extremes. No wonder I had no friends... my mother is practically an asylum-escapee.
My neighbor Tom broke down the back door and came into the kitchen. His eyes fell to the floor where he saw the mess. They then drifted towards me with a look of shock, horror and sympathy.
"Holy sweet mother of Jesus. What in the name of everything within sanity happened here?" He asked kneeling down beside me.
"I... It just happened so quickly. They're all gone... just like that," I hissed, probably sounding like the crazy old lady on Grove Bank Avenue.
"Shhh. It's gonna be ok now. I'll go phone the cops and you get changed. Don't worry," He smiled and gave me a hug.
I wiped a tear from my eye and ran up the stairs and into the bathroom. I filled the sink up with cold water and splashed my face. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Or was it?
About half an hour later, when I was dressed the police has started to take the bodies away after taking pictures of the bodies and the area around them. I came back into the kitchen and a young policewoman came over to me and put her arm around me.
"I am so sorry about what happened. You must be Johnny, right?"
I nodded and looked at the body bags on the ground.
"Well I'm officer O'Neill but just call me Joanna, ok? Is it alright if I ask you some questions or do you need more time?"
"No... I think I can answer them now."
She brought out a notepad and pen at the ready as I began to explain everything.
"Well I was asleep but I could hear them arguing again. They've been doing that since my big brother Skott left for Paris and my dad was having an affair with him secretary. So I heard all these noises like crashing and stuff and then there was this bang. So I got up and went down and saw my dad lying there and my mom had then gun in her mouth. She was all telling me how no matter where I would be, they'd always love me and then I blinked... and she was gone."
She sat me down in the dining room and told me that there would be a social worker coming anytime soon. I took a glass of water and sighed. It all happened so quickly... I mean, if my mom was still hanging out on this planet she'd be done for murder or something but seeing as how she was on the brink of self-destruction and then was pushed over the edge... it just makes it sort of creepy to think that I had been living with a suicidal murderer for the last 16 years.
Joanna came and sat next to me and asked if I had anyone that I could call. I answered no... Well I didn't want to say that I didn't have any friends or that might just make me sound sad. The police had already got a hold of Skott and he was going to be back here in Chicago in a few days.
The social worker came through. She was quite tall and had long curly red hair. She came over and smiled at me. I hate all this sympathy. Can't they just face that no matter how hard they try to be nice to me, they can't change the fact that Melissa and Craig Bryson are dead.
"Hi I'm Claire. All these cops must get on your nerves, eh?" She smiled and took Joanna's seat.
"Yeah totally. At least someone knows how I feel."
She laughed and pulled her chair in closer to me.
"Ok well seeing as how you don't seem to have any living relatives, we might have to move you with some strangers or into a care home..."
"No way. You can't do that to me... I refuse!"
"Don't worry Johnny. Luckily enough you don't have to go with either. We've found some old friends of your parents. A Mr. Frank Wright the second and his son. I don't suppose you will remember them. According to our records you met them when you were about 2 or 3 years old." She laughed.
I shook my head. There must be a million Wrights on this planet.
"Um... so where do they live?" I asked.
"In a little town called Berkeley in California. It's across the bay bridge from San Francisco."
After a few hours of explaining everything to me twice, I had to go upstairs and pack a bag with my clothes and a few belongings. I decided to take my bass with some CDs, my notepad, books, a photo album, my reading glasses with me. I took a few moments to look back out of my bedroom window before picking up my bag and going out of my room for the last time. Oh, you're probably wondering why my name is Johnny. Well it's not short for anything. The nurses and doctors at the hospital thought I was a dude so my mom and dad called me Johnny but them my big brother Skott came in, who would be 8 at the time, said, "Uh... guys? That's a she." And that is the tale of how I'm landed with Johnny. I took my last look around the house before I went into the back of the social workers car and left for the airport.
As I sat and looked out at the world from my car window, I realized that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the Wrights were like a new window opening after my door closed. Who knows?
It was about 6am in the morning now, and the sun was just coming up. Claire kept looking in the mirror to see if I was ok. We sat in silence the whole way to the airport and in silence the whole time in the departure lounge. Well, seeing as how there's too much silence I guess I should tell you more 'bout me.
I'm about 5'3"; I've got wavy dirty blonde hair down to my ass, brown eyes and kind of tan colored skin. I've been playing bass since I was about 9 and I have no friends... yes, sad as it is. Its true. Oh yeah and my mom just killed my dad and then herself... my life just rocks doesn't it? Jeez...
"So... do you want anything to drink?" Claire asked.
"No thanks... "
In Berkeley
We had eventually arrived in Berkeley. Our plane was delayed for 2 hours so it was now 11am. Claire drove up the street until we arrived in a cul-de-sac and I have to say, the houses were pretty big. I stared out of the window and looked at each mailbox until I saw Wright.
"Ooooh. Its that one there," I said, pointing at number 1267.
She laughed and pulled up outside the house. On the plane she had told me loads of jokes that were actually funny, cause you know how you get people and they tell you jokes and you just laugh to make them feel good even though they're piss. So I guess, I'm in a slightly better mood. I got out and took my bass and my bag from the boot and then walked up the driveway. I had this sudden feeling of fear. What if they didn't like me? What if they thought I was some weird saddo? Or... what if they like country music?
I took a deep breath, looked back at Claire who smiled and then rang the doorbell. I stood on the doorstep for a few moments and looked at the other houses. There were people out cutting the front lawn, people washing their cars and even to housewives standing gossiping about some lady called Madeline. I heard the door click and then it opened. A tall man with a white beard stood there.
"Can I help you at all?" He asked.
"Are you Frank E. Wright II?" Claire asked.
"Yeah... " He replied still looking confused.
"Oh thank God. We were hopelessly lost. I'm Claire Jackson... we spoke on the phone?"
"Now I remember. Oh my god... Johnny is that you?" He asked.
"Yep." I replied shyly.
"You look so different. I'm so sorry to hear what happened. Come on in, come in."
We both wiped out feet on the welcome mat and followed him inside. There was something different about this house. It felt so... warm and home-like. I could get used to a place like this.
"Can I get you anything to drink at all?" He asked as he showed us into the living room.
"No thank you," We both replied.
"Johnny, why don't you go and unpack your things in your bedroom while Mr. Wright and I have a talk," Claire smiled.
"Just up the stairs and to the left."
"Thank you," I replied.
More screaming.
More crying... mainly from my mom.
Then another sound. It was sort of like a bang.
I opened up my eyes and sat up. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and got up. I guess they were just fighting again... they do it all the time. It really gets on my nerves. Ever since my dad started having an affair with his secretary and my older brother Skott moved out, no one ever spoke. It was always yelling or screaming and shouting.
I put on a t-shirt and then walked downstairs, still feeling tired. All the sounds were coming from the kitchen. But there was no sound now... only silence. I went through and screamed. At that moment it felt like my heart stopped. My dad was lying dead on the ground and my mom standing beside him with a gun pointing at the roof of her mouth.
"What the hell happened here?" I screamed.
My mom removed the gun from her mouth and smiled at me, tears running down her cheeks.
"Oh look at you. My baby girl, all grown up," She sighed and hugged me
"Are you crazy? Did you kill him?" I shouted pushing her away.
"Johnny, listen to me. The next few weeks of your life will be crazy, ok? I just want you to know that no matter where you are your father and I will always love you."
"How can you love me if you're both dead?"
"Then that's the way it has to be."
She took a few steps back from me, so that I couldn't stop her.
"I love you," she mouthed and then put the gun back into her mouth.
A few seconds later there was another bang. I blinked. In the short time it took me to blink, she was on the ground, blood everywhere.
I stepped back from the both of them. What was I going to do? Skott was in Paris, my grandparents are all dead and I have no other family. I stepped back until I was against the wall. I slouched down. Still trying to get a hold of what just happened. I looked around me. There were broken plates lying about the place, two dead bodies and a gun. Hardly suspicious... not. I mean, I knew that mom had cracked but this was just extremes. No wonder I had no friends... my mother is practically an asylum-escapee.
My neighbor Tom broke down the back door and came into the kitchen. His eyes fell to the floor where he saw the mess. They then drifted towards me with a look of shock, horror and sympathy.
"Holy sweet mother of Jesus. What in the name of everything within sanity happened here?" He asked kneeling down beside me.
"I... It just happened so quickly. They're all gone... just like that," I hissed, probably sounding like the crazy old lady on Grove Bank Avenue.
"Shhh. It's gonna be ok now. I'll go phone the cops and you get changed. Don't worry," He smiled and gave me a hug.
I wiped a tear from my eye and ran up the stairs and into the bathroom. I filled the sink up with cold water and splashed my face. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Or was it?
About half an hour later, when I was dressed the police has started to take the bodies away after taking pictures of the bodies and the area around them. I came back into the kitchen and a young policewoman came over to me and put her arm around me.
"I am so sorry about what happened. You must be Johnny, right?"
I nodded and looked at the body bags on the ground.
"Well I'm officer O'Neill but just call me Joanna, ok? Is it alright if I ask you some questions or do you need more time?"
"No... I think I can answer them now."
She brought out a notepad and pen at the ready as I began to explain everything.
"Well I was asleep but I could hear them arguing again. They've been doing that since my big brother Skott left for Paris and my dad was having an affair with him secretary. So I heard all these noises like crashing and stuff and then there was this bang. So I got up and went down and saw my dad lying there and my mom had then gun in her mouth. She was all telling me how no matter where I would be, they'd always love me and then I blinked... and she was gone."
She sat me down in the dining room and told me that there would be a social worker coming anytime soon. I took a glass of water and sighed. It all happened so quickly... I mean, if my mom was still hanging out on this planet she'd be done for murder or something but seeing as how she was on the brink of self-destruction and then was pushed over the edge... it just makes it sort of creepy to think that I had been living with a suicidal murderer for the last 16 years.
Joanna came and sat next to me and asked if I had anyone that I could call. I answered no... Well I didn't want to say that I didn't have any friends or that might just make me sound sad. The police had already got a hold of Skott and he was going to be back here in Chicago in a few days.
The social worker came through. She was quite tall and had long curly red hair. She came over and smiled at me. I hate all this sympathy. Can't they just face that no matter how hard they try to be nice to me, they can't change the fact that Melissa and Craig Bryson are dead.
"Hi I'm Claire. All these cops must get on your nerves, eh?" She smiled and took Joanna's seat.
"Yeah totally. At least someone knows how I feel."
She laughed and pulled her chair in closer to me.
"Ok well seeing as how you don't seem to have any living relatives, we might have to move you with some strangers or into a care home..."
"No way. You can't do that to me... I refuse!"
"Don't worry Johnny. Luckily enough you don't have to go with either. We've found some old friends of your parents. A Mr. Frank Wright the second and his son. I don't suppose you will remember them. According to our records you met them when you were about 2 or 3 years old." She laughed.
I shook my head. There must be a million Wrights on this planet.
"Um... so where do they live?" I asked.
"In a little town called Berkeley in California. It's across the bay bridge from San Francisco."
After a few hours of explaining everything to me twice, I had to go upstairs and pack a bag with my clothes and a few belongings. I decided to take my bass with some CDs, my notepad, books, a photo album, my reading glasses with me. I took a few moments to look back out of my bedroom window before picking up my bag and going out of my room for the last time. Oh, you're probably wondering why my name is Johnny. Well it's not short for anything. The nurses and doctors at the hospital thought I was a dude so my mom and dad called me Johnny but them my big brother Skott came in, who would be 8 at the time, said, "Uh... guys? That's a she." And that is the tale of how I'm landed with Johnny. I took my last look around the house before I went into the back of the social workers car and left for the airport.
As I sat and looked out at the world from my car window, I realized that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the Wrights were like a new window opening after my door closed. Who knows?
It was about 6am in the morning now, and the sun was just coming up. Claire kept looking in the mirror to see if I was ok. We sat in silence the whole way to the airport and in silence the whole time in the departure lounge. Well, seeing as how there's too much silence I guess I should tell you more 'bout me.
I'm about 5'3"; I've got wavy dirty blonde hair down to my ass, brown eyes and kind of tan colored skin. I've been playing bass since I was about 9 and I have no friends... yes, sad as it is. Its true. Oh yeah and my mom just killed my dad and then herself... my life just rocks doesn't it? Jeez...
"So... do you want anything to drink?" Claire asked.
"No thanks... "
In Berkeley
We had eventually arrived in Berkeley. Our plane was delayed for 2 hours so it was now 11am. Claire drove up the street until we arrived in a cul-de-sac and I have to say, the houses were pretty big. I stared out of the window and looked at each mailbox until I saw Wright.
"Ooooh. Its that one there," I said, pointing at number 1267.
She laughed and pulled up outside the house. On the plane she had told me loads of jokes that were actually funny, cause you know how you get people and they tell you jokes and you just laugh to make them feel good even though they're piss. So I guess, I'm in a slightly better mood. I got out and took my bass and my bag from the boot and then walked up the driveway. I had this sudden feeling of fear. What if they didn't like me? What if they thought I was some weird saddo? Or... what if they like country music?
I took a deep breath, looked back at Claire who smiled and then rang the doorbell. I stood on the doorstep for a few moments and looked at the other houses. There were people out cutting the front lawn, people washing their cars and even to housewives standing gossiping about some lady called Madeline. I heard the door click and then it opened. A tall man with a white beard stood there.
"Can I help you at all?" He asked.
"Are you Frank E. Wright II?" Claire asked.
"Yeah... " He replied still looking confused.
"Oh thank God. We were hopelessly lost. I'm Claire Jackson... we spoke on the phone?"
"Now I remember. Oh my god... Johnny is that you?" He asked.
"Yep." I replied shyly.
"You look so different. I'm so sorry to hear what happened. Come on in, come in."
We both wiped out feet on the welcome mat and followed him inside. There was something different about this house. It felt so... warm and home-like. I could get used to a place like this.
"Can I get you anything to drink at all?" He asked as he showed us into the living room.
"No thank you," We both replied.
"Johnny, why don't you go and unpack your things in your bedroom while Mr. Wright and I have a talk," Claire smiled.
"Just up the stairs and to the left."
"Thank you," I replied.
