House of Memories

(A Short Story)

Millie Richards and her friends had always been THAT kind of group, rhe 'populars' who everyone seems to either put up on a pedestal or like down on like thy are dirt. But one night, as they're at a party, Millie uncovers a secret about one of her best friends which will change them all forever.



"He's like Icarus," Rachel had told me that night, too drunk on alcohol to fully comprehend her own words. "He flies higher and higher because he thinks it'll be fun, he wants to touch the edges of fame and glory so badly that it kills him, and one day soon that's exactly what'll happen. His wings will melt, Millie, just you wait. Soon, he'll fall, and you should pray to all the gods in the world that he doesn't drag you down with him."


She'd been talking about my brother, of course. Ashley Richards, the star of the school and of the local football club, shining brighter than any others anyone had ever seen, or so the school newspaper said. My dumb little brother, who'd fallen in love not with his girlfriend, but with glory and wonder and being idolised and worshipped by everyone he met. Sometimes even I couldn't bring him back down to earth again, once he had managed to convince himself of his own importance so wonderfully.


I agreed with Rachel then, muttering nonsense about his girlfriend and his award he hoped to win for the school achievements board. We went on like that for a while, actually, now that I think of it, bitterness falling from our lips like dripping red wine, tangling together in a mess of laughter and drunkenness and madness, until it was broken apart, by a few simple words  tied together like a noose. 


"I found the box." 


And my heart stopped for just a moment, just long enough for me to panic.

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