The Fry's

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Chicago’s Fry family lived beyond the busy streets of the city in a million dollar house. The house’s outside walls were covered by fancy grey stone, its roof was covered by beautiful black shingles, and its shape was pointed like a triangle, it resembled a rich man’s house. Beyond the walls of the Fry’s house interesting things went on, things you wouldn’t expect from a rich family in the Chicago suburbs.
The Fry family had been my neighbors for about six months. I remember the day they moved in to the house across the street from me. The family was very quiet; they kept to themselves one hundred percent of the time. The family never participated in neighborhood events such as parties or yard sales. When we would have neighborhood events, the family would stay in their house and shut the curtains. It seemed to me they hated everybody, or they had a really big secret to hide. I would try to talk to the Fry family if they were outside mowing the lawn, but it wouldn’t work, all I would get was a blank stare. For a while I thought they were deaf until I heard them talking to each other. At night I would lie in bed, and think why are they so weird I wonder why they won’t talk to anyone.
It was a Saturday morning, I was preparing coffee for my husband and me; that was when I discovered the Fry family walking in and out of the house, they were carrying bags and then tossing them into their truck. I thought to myself, finally, they are going on vacation. As the nosey neighbor I am, I watched and waited for them to leave. I was ready to investigate the Fry family’s house. I waited until dark to start the investigation because, the other neighbors wouldn’t approve of it. I slipped on my shoes and opened the door; I looked around to see if anyone was out walking, there was no one. I closed the door behind me, and walked across the street. Finally I was in their yard, the grass came past my ankles, and this wasn’t the first time they have let their yard get out of control. I tried the front door first to see if it was unlocked, it didn’t budge. I then began my journey to the side of the house. I looked in each window with no luck; every curtain was down in the house. I went to the back door, I turned the knob and the door swung open. “Yes,” I whispered to myself.
I walked in and shut the door behind me. I was now in their laundry room, nothing out of the ordinary, just a regular laundry room with a washer and a dryer. The laundry room led to the kitchen. The kitchen was magnificent, its counters were black marble with gold flakes, it was beautiful. I looked everywhere possible in the kitchen. I then began to the living room when I noticed a stack of papers on top of the fridge. I walked over and stood on my tip-toes to reach, I grabbed one and they all tumbled down. I sat down on the floor and started rummaging through them. There was nothing interesting there; it was just bills and junk mail. I picked them up and put them back on the fridge. I was in the living room they had two wooden rocking chairs and a tiny TV, I thought to myself, for such a mansion they sure don’t have much. There was nothing hanging on the tall white walls, it was so plain. There was nothing in the house that interested me besides how bare it was.
I was bringing my journey to an end; I had my hand on the back door when I heard talking on the other side. My heart fell out of my chest, I couldn’t breathe. The first thing that came to my mind was to hide in the closet I seen. I ran out of the laundry room and to the closet, I open the door, and that’s when I seen it. It all gets blurry from there, now I am tied up like that dead person in the Fry’s closet.
“How did you end up tied up like me? Were you also sneaking in the Fry’s house?” I asked the man sitting next to me; he was a Fry victim, too.





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