Carnival: Nobody's Home

Roy was looking at his emptied room. He was filled with pride and nostalgia. He had lived in his apartment for 7 years. Straight out of high school, through the rough times of college, three failed relationships, and four lousy jobs. He said bye to the room, walked out, and hugged his former roommate one last time. His roommate gave him a bottle of alcohol and they parted ways. Roy was sad to leave but ecstatic to see his first house.

He reminisced during the drive over. Once in front of the house, he was in complete disbelief. He was never sure that this day would never happen. His first house was just a step away. The movers were on standby waiting for him to go inside first. Roy took his time walking in. Stepping into the large open front room, he looked at the chandelier hanging above him. Smiling ear to ear, Roy let out a victorious yelp. Roy ran around his house celebrating as the movers brought things in.

As night rolled around, Roy laid on his bed. Completely exhausted, he called his childhood friend.

“I’m moved in.”

“Congrats man! So when is the house warming?”

“Do I really have to? I just got the place. I rather not have it get trashed so early on.”

“It can be a small thing. Just a handful of people, some alcohol, music, and fun.”

“Come on man, it’s never small with you.”

“It will this time. I promise.”

“OKay but it better stay small.”

Two nights later, Roy found himself with a full house. Friends, family, multicolor lights, entertainers of all kinds. He was trying to keep everything in order but it was obviously too much for him. His childhood friend saw him sit down in the kitchen and approached him.

“What’s up man?”

“What’s up is that this is not small.”

“Of course it is. You can still see the floor and gaps in the room. Come on man, let loose. Have a few drinks.”

“Okay one or two drinks but that’s it.”

Hours later, Roy was very drunk and dancing with random people as his childhood friend cheered and recorded. The entire house partied into the late night. Just as everyone was starting to leave, it began to rain. Something that Roy’s childhood friend took as a sign to party harder. Which they did. More drinks. More dancing. More everything. That was until a party goer informed Roy that a homeless man was at his door. The very drunk Roy wobbled over and slammed the door in the homeless man’s face, the partiers cheered. The homeless man rang the doorbell again. Roy opened the door.

“What do you want?”

“I was hoping to talk to the owner.”

“She ain’t here.”

“The other guy said the owner was you.”

After an uncomfortable silence, Roy closed the door in the homeless man’s face. The homeless began to beg for shelter from the storm. Roy just instructed the music to go up.

The sunrise woke Roy out of his sleep. His head was spinning and his stomach was in great pain. He couldn’t remember much about last night. He couldn’t believe the mess that was his house. He could, however, see a figure leaning against his mailbox. Going outside, he was swallowed by guilt. There was the old man, pale and wet. Roy tried not to throw up. Seeing a text from his childhood friend, Roy realizes that he doesn’t have long until someone would be coming over and seeing the homeless man dead on his property. Roy panicked. He dragged the homeless man to the back of his house.

Roy spastically cleaned. Roy frantically cleaned. Roy obsessively cleaned. His thoughts were racing.

What happened? What was the old man doing last night? Was he sick? Why didn’t anyone call an ambulance? How much did he have to drink? Why… when…

Roy, you are a good person. We don’t need anyone. It can be just us. They trashed our house. They didn’t clean. They don’t care about us. They don’t care about you.

Roy’s eyes started to gain a light green hue. He stood up feeling calm as all he could think about was getting away from everyone. A loud banging at his door snapped him out of the mild trance. His childhood friend eventually just walked in. They argued about what really happened last night. In their argument, Roy reveals that the homeless man died last night and is haunting him. The childhood friend laughed at Roy. Roy, frustrated, takes his childhood friend to the back of the house. But the homeless man was not there. The childhood friend makes fun of Roy and tells him that he needs to sober up. The childhood friend started texting. Roy felt a hand on his shoulder.

Roy, who is this traitor? We don’t need him. We don’t need people who are going to ruin our lives.

Roy’s eyes gained a light green hue as he looked over at his childhood friend.

Roy’s former roommate walked up to Roy’s home. Roy’s home was very unkempt. He could tell that something was terribly wrong. He cautiously made his way to the front door. Knocking very hesitantly, the former roommate felt very uneasy. He looked down and thought he could see some kind of light green air coming from inside the house. Roy opened the door slightly, only exposing half his face.

“Hey man, haven’t heard from you in like a month. Is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay.” Roy said in a monotone.

“Your yard looks pretty bad. You want some help with it?”

“Everything is okay.”

“Come on Roy, this isn’t like you. Is something wrong?”

Roy’s eye seemed to adjust to make direct eye contact with him, “Everything. Is. Okay.”

“Roy. Is someone there? Is someone forcing you to say that?”

The former roommate noticed what appeared to be a silver skinned hand with the fingers fused together on Roy’s shoulder. He leaned slightly and saw a silver skinned creature with no eyebrows and a four sectioned mouth staring at him. The roommate fell back in fear. Roy looked at the former roommate. The creature and Roy spoke at the same time using Roy’s voice, “Nobody’s home.”