Proud of My Work.

I know it's dangerous but I really like him. I just have to keep him out of the basement.

Sure, you may say I just met him, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? His name is Ryan Wilson and he just moved here from Wisconsin about a month ago. He's one of the nicest people I’ve ever met and inviting him over is the least I could do for him. He surprisingly doesn’t have many friends but I think the girls gawking at him in the hallways at school probably make up for that. 

My heart is already pounded by the time he rings the doorbell. I wait a few seconds to answer it so that he doesn’t think I’m super desperate. Walking to the front door, my ears are on fire and it feels like a group of worms has made themselves at home in my stomach. I gather up all those unwanted feelings and open the door. 

I swallow hard. I guess I forgot how handsome he really is. 

“H-hi!” I say, a little bit too loud and eager, “Uhm... come in.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles and steps in the door.

He slips off his crisp Air Force 1’s and we walk silently to the living room. My parents aren’t home but will be soon. They’re excited to meet him; they always are. I met his mom at the science fair last week when she dropped him off and introduced her to me. My parents are always too busy to go to school events so they only meet the people I have over at my house. 

I sit down on the couch and to my surprise, he sits next to me. Picking up the TV remote, I ask him what he wants to watch.

“Oh I don’t really care,” he replied, “We can watch a movie, and if we can’t find anything we can watch The Office or something.”

“Okay cool! I love The Office!” 

I don’t actually. I’m just trying to make conversation. 

“Really? Me too! It’s so funny!” 

I cringe a little. The crude humour isn’t really my style but I’ll go along with it.

“Haha, yeah. I kinda like the idea of a show inside of a show, you know?” 

I cringe again, hoping he didn’t notice the rhyming. I hate when I accidentally make my sentences rhyme.

“Yeah I get that, it’s pretty cool.”

I can sense his gaze lingering on me for a few seconds but I’m staring at the TV. I forgot my dad hasn’t set the new TV up yet; he just hung it on the wall.

“Oh I’m sorry,” I turn to look at him, flickering my eyes around the room every so often, “I think my dad forgot to set up our new TV. We got it like two days ago. He’ll be home soon, but for now, do you want a little house tour?”

He laughs, “Sure, that sounds great!”

Bad idea. I take him upstairs and show him around our second floor with the occasional oohs and ahs coming from Ryan. Once we’ve fully explored the upstairs it’s time to go back downstairs, and that’s when he gets curious. 

“What’s this?” He asked, pointing to what I know to be the basement door, but could be any number of rooms. 

“Oh uh, that? That’s our basement. We don’t really go down there.”

“Oh okay cool! Is it okay if I traverse your lower level?” He smiles but then stops after thinking about what he said, “Oh wait no- that- that’s not-” He groans and I laugh.

“Ryan you’re fine I know what you meant,” I manage to say through spurts of giggles.

“Okay good. I’m sorry,” he responds, his face still bright pink from embarrassment.

“Haha, you’re fine. I don’t think my parents want a guest down there when it’s messy-”

“I don’t mind! You should see my room. It’s practically a jungle in there.”

“Look Ryan, I said we can’t go down there, and we can’t. That’s the end of it.”  

I flinch at the tone I speak with. He looks away from me like a puppy who just got yelled at.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I just don’t want to get in trouble for bringing you somewhere we’re not allowed to go.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have pressed.”

We stand in awkward silence for a moment until I hear the sound of our garage door opening. 

“Oh cool! My dad’s home. He can fix the TV now,” I say softly as if to put back together with the pieces of the ruined mood that existed before I snapped.

“Awesome!” 

Ryan flashes that adorable smile that captured my attention when I first saw him.

The big white door that leads to the garage slams open and my mom stomps upstairs without even taking the time to acknowledge Ryan’s presence. My dad follows, not far behind her, but he actually stops to close the door and take a look at Ryan.

“Hi! I’m Sean, Greta’s dad. I’m sorry about Tracie’s behaviour, I said something that- you don’t need to hear about that your first time at our house. I assume you’re Ryan?”

“Oh Uhm yes sir, Ryan Wilson,” he sticks out his hand to shake my father’s. My father grasps his hand and shakes it hard. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Sean.”

“Oh please, call me Sean. It’s nice to meet you too Ryan.”

“Ahem,” I clear my throat to get my dad’s attention, “Daddy, do you think you could fix the TV for us? We haven’t had much to do without it.”

“Oh of course Greta! I’m sorry, it slipped my mind this morning. I’ll get right on that.”

My dad starts working on setting up the TV so Ryan and I are stuck in silence yet again. 

“Excuse me, I’m going to go use the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Feel free to make yourself at home. There’s food over there,” I point to our pantry, “and you can get water out of the fridge. Uhh, cups are in that cabinet right there,” I point to our cup cabinet and leave Ryan to his thoughts.

When I get into the bathroom, I lock the door and get out my phone to text my best friend, Lucy. We’ve been friends since 2nd grade and I tell her everything. Well, almost everything.

“dude.”

“What?! What happened?? I want to know everything!”

“i don’t have much time to talk, im in the bathroom so i cant stay here for long.”

“Girl just tell me!”

“i accidentally yelled at him for asking about going in our basement. u know my parents, they don’t even let u in there!”

“Yiikes. How did he take it?”

“he seemed fine after a bit, but i still feel really bad :(“

“If he seemed fine, I’m sure he is. U got this bby! Go get ur mans!”

I turn off my phone and realize I spent an unusual amount of time in the bathroom. I flush the toilet I didn’t use, wash the hands that were never dirty, and leave the bathroom. My dad is gone, I assume he finished fixing the TV. Expecting Ryan to still be in the kitchen where I left him, I’m a little shocked to realise that he is no longer there. And the basement door is no longer closed. Sprinting down the stairs, my head is spinning. 

“Why couldn’t he just listen to me?” I whisper under my breath, agitated.

I find Ryan exactly where I expect to find him. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, gaping at the secret he was never supposed to see, to begin with. 

My parents are murderers. I was never supposed to know. They kill anyone who finds out, but not me. Who would kill their own daughter? Not my parents. In return, I carry the burden of knowing that we have a factory for black market goods in my basement. You didn’t think they kept the bodies, did you? No. They tear them limb from limb and sell the parts to demented people who want them for their collections. 

“Ryan… I told you-”

“You? You’re crazy! You and your family? Psychos! Why did you bring me here? To kill me too?” 

I’ve never heard him yell before. 

“Ryan no! I wanted to keep you out of the basement to keep you safe! They have to kill anyone who finds their-”

“They? Their? No. You! Your! This was your plan all along I know it. I ha-”

A single gunshot, to the back of Ryan’s head.

“Good work Greta. We’re proud of you.” 

My brother standing over Ryan’s body, my parents at the top of the stairs beaming down at me.

“Thanks, ma. It was a tough one, He almost came downstairs when you weren't here.”

“I figured that might happen. You handled it well sweetheart. You’ll make a great successor.”

I turn around and smile down at Ryan Wilson, proud of my work.