The Wilderwald Residence

"Hey..." I say as Isaac pulls me through the lobby on my new Rollerskates "I've been wondering. The house I used to live in... is it still there?"
Isaac stops for a second "I suppose you'd like to see it?"
I nod "I've been thinking about it. My old room at least. There's still some stuff, right?"
Isaac nods "A lot." he sighs "Well... I guess it would be a dick move to keep you from that..."
"Language." I laugh.
He rolls his eyes "Shut up and go get in the car." and so I do.
It's not a long drive. Maybe twenty minutes out of the city and down a few highways and country lanes.
We arrive at a small suburb. Well, not really suburb. It's a few houses in a line with some dry grass growing in front of them. "Lovely." I mutter. Even the snow didn't feel like coming to this area.
Isaac takes me to the third house and opens the door with a flick of his wand. "Salvio Hexia." he mutters at it, as soon as he shuts it behind us.
"Salvio Hexia?" I ask.
"A little protective spell. This house is still... you know."
"I know." I look around in the small house. The walls are covered in ugly floral wallpapers, with horrible brown stains all over the corners and in random spots. We're standing in a living/ dining area with an old sofa in front of a dusty fireplace, a big dirty and damaged wooden dining table and a few folding chairs , carelessly standing around it.
"It's... it's not much but..." says Isaac noticing my disapproving look.
"It's home." I sigh running my hand over the table, immediately resulting in a splinter in my hand.
There's three doors, one of which leads to a kitchen with brown cupboards piled on each other and a small counter with an old sink. A few dead flowers stand by the window. Through the other door I catch a peek at a bed "That's their bedroom?" I ask pointing at the half open door.
Isaac nods "Yes. Yours is upstairs."
I glare up the crooked wooden stairs to a little balcony leading to a hallway.
I carefully walk towards my parents bedroom, passing an awfully cold spot right next to the sofa. I look down to the floor I'm standing on, convinced to see a bit of blood staining the dark wood. "I'm guessing... they were found in the living room?" I ask.
Isaac shrugs "No idea but yes... I wouldn't doubt it."he looks just as uncomfortable.
Entering the bedroom I hope for maybe a drawer with some, if blurry, family pictures on them but all I find is a large bed with white sheets, a large wardrobe and yet another door, leading to a small dirty bathroom.
"It wasn't dirty, you know." says Isaac "You didn't live like animals. It's just... it's been collecting dust for a couple of months."
"Sure..." I nod, inspecting the broken mirror above the sink.
I notice two bottles of perfume standing on a small drawer. Smelling them I recognize the scents from both sweaters. The one my mother used to wear is actually quite nice. It's definitely where the scent of roses stems from. And in the shower I spot a bottle of vanilla scented shampoo. "Can I have that?" I ask, pointing at the shampoo and the perfume "It... it's nicely familiar."
Isaac nods "Sure."
After leaving the bedroom we go upstairs to my own room. It's a lot more like what I'd expect home to look like. It actually reminds me a little of Isaacs room. A few snowglobes are placed across the window sill, some of which are broken. Next to my bed hang a few posters of the Samples, Beatles and Queen and books are piled onto my desk.
"Gonna pack all that up some time..." says Isaac looking around the room "There's still a lot of value and a good amount of clothes. I assume you're pretty short on them."
"I have a total of three shirts. No idea what you're talking about." I say jokingly. I notice a record player standing in the corner, with a healthy amount of records in the shelf beneath it. "Wicked." I say, going to inspect the records. But out of maybe fifty there seem to be only seven, that weren't broken. "What happened to them?" I frown.
"Same thing that happened to everything else that's broken." sighs Isaac, his eyes wandering over the snowglobes and ripped paintings and eventually stopping on me.
"Oh." I mutter and look at the books instead. "Poetry?"
Isaac nods with a chuckle "You always tried to enjoy Whitman because people kept calling him a genius but in the end you always favoured Poe."
"How pretentious." I laugh looking at Whitman's 'Leaves of grass'.
"Very." grins Isaac "But it clearly did good. Kept your mind sharp and well... you were never bad with words."
I raise my eyebrows "As far as I can tell I'm basically illiterate."
Isaac laughs "Speaking definitely isn't one of your strengths. But you always were a good writer. Your teacher kept saying so."
"My teacher? I went to a school before Hogwarts?"
Isaac looks surprised for a second "Of course you did. I mean, much to your father's dismay, of course. Eventually they pulled you out because, well- everything. But you went to primary school for two years. Terrible at maths, science, geography... but your English,arts and music teachers were all quite impressed with you."
"Arts? I can draw?"
"Well, for a child, I guess."
"Why aren't there any of my drawings? Like at all?"
Isaac shakes his head "You never cared much for them. Drew them and threw them away." why does that feel like a lie?
"Okay..." I inspect his expression curiously and the corners of his mouth twitch a little. Definitely lying.
I sit down on the bed and grab the bedframe. I keep my expression neutral but I can feel something hidden under my bed. Carefully tied to the slatted frame appears to be a small book with a leather binding. I doubt that I hid it from Isaac, but now, considering he prefers to protect me from my past, he might tell me to hand whatever it is over.
I point at an old sports bag "Could we pack some clothes and books?"
"Yeah, sure." nods Isaac and grabs the bag. Going through the closet only a few items seem worth keeping. Most of the white shirt have dark brown stains on them, most pants are ripped and most socks have holes in them. The underwear drawer is a little treasure chest considering how short I actually am on underwear but with an exception of that and a few, large, soft flannel shirts, I stand rather empty handed. That is until I find a well hidden box of band t-shirts.
Isaac grins "I always had a feeling you didn't lose them."
"What?"
"I'd get you band t-shirts every year for every birthday and every Christmas. You never wore them because... well again, your father wasn't a fan. He'd throw the first one's out but, I see you kept the rest."
"You liked making him mad, didn't you?" I laugh.
"For a while, yes." he says but his expression shifts a little.
I stuff the shirts into the bag and walk over to the desk to throw the books in as well. Isaac helps me to take the posters off the wall, so I'd finally get to decorate my part of the dorm a little. Then, when Isaac is carefully wrapping up the non broken snowglobes I quickly pull out the small notebook from under my bed and hide it between the other books.
"Anything else you'd like to keep?" asks Isaac looking across the room.
I shrug "A record player is quite cool but not worth much without any records."
Isaac nods "Don't worry. You can always collect new ones. Besides, who needs a record player in the age of the radio, Walkmen, CDs, tapes..."
I smile "It sounds better."
He sighs "I know. But they're also highly unpractical. Don't break your head about it. Besides the sound quality of this player was utter garbage anyways. It's one of those incredibly cheap ones from the 70s."
"Alright, I'm sold." I laugh "Not missing out at all."
"Great. Shall we go then?"
I nod and we finally leave this hellhole of a home.