A blanket of fresh white snow covered the front lawn, hiding the crumbly brown driveway. The delicate roof of the quaint house was coated in frosting-like snow and topped with colorful confetti. To add to the festive spirit, a row of candy canes lined a wavy path leading to a dull brown doorway. Just behind the door, a woman sat in a creaky rocking chair, knitting a dark navy scarf. Her white hair gave an impression that she was quite old, yet her face looked the same as ever. At her feet, a little boy lay face up on the floor, staring at the cracking ceiling. His arms were flung out to his sides, basking in the little light that seeped through the cracks in the ceiling and the crookedly sealed windows.
As if she could read his mind, the old lady shook her head disapprovingly. “Erwyn, don’t be pessimistic. You know we’ll get out of this house someday.”
“Someday,” Erwyn repeated. “And when is that, Auntie?”
She remained quiet. Erwyn wondered if she was hiding something. She probably was. Erwyn still remembered the time she had lied to him about Santa. Perhaps she was lying now, too.
He pushed himself up, watching his Auntie’s expression shift imperceptibly. Yet he couldn’t even begin to guess what she was thinking. How inexperienced he was. Perhaps he would become smarter and wiser when he ventured outside. If he ventured outside.
His eyes drifted to the outline of the door in front of him. He’d spent hours knocking on it, screaming at it, punching it, to no avail. He’d even gone as far as to look for a secret button to open it. When his Auntie was sleeping, he would creep to the kitchen, grab one of the dull kitchen knives, and carve at the almost imperceptible outline of the door. Unfortunately, he hadn’t made much progress so far.
“Erwyn,” his Auntie called cheerfully, despite the gloomy atmosphere. “Come here for a second, dear.” Erwyn did as he was told, crawling to her side. She gently laid the completed navy blue scarf around his neck, smiling proudly. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Erwyn responded honestly. “Thank you!”
His Auntie immediately noted his brooding expression and pulled him onto her lap. “What’s bothering you now?”
“Nothing,” Erwyn mumbled.
“Is it the house again?” his Auntie asked reproachfully.
“Yes,” he admitted. There was no hiding his feelings around his Auntie.
“I already told you, we’ll escape someday.”
“But I can’t spend another day here!” Erwyn cried. “It’s so boring and dull! There’s nothing to do! No one to talk to!”
“Hey,” his Auntie chided. “Look here.” She placed a finger under his chin and turned his head so he was staring into her eyes. “Be happy. You have everything anyone could want. Books. Toys. Clothes.”
“But‒”
His Auntie cut him off, groaning in pain as she rubbed her back. “This chair is absolutely horrible! So stiff! Would you be a sweetheart and fetch me some pillows?”
Erwyn nodded and headed to the two beds tucked in the corner of the room. As he gathered the pillows in his arms to take back to his Auntie, he sulked in silence. She would never understand how he felt, all cooped up in the house. He needed to get out, if only for a second. He’d already cooked every recipe in the cookbook. Read every book on the bookshelf. Worn all the clothes in the closet. Played with every toy in the chest. He was suffocating slowly but surely, breathing in the same air everyday.
Suddenly, the house shook violently and the furniture was flung across the room. A shelf smacked Erwyn in the forehead and he scowled at it as his annoyance spiked. The house was way too small for him, his Auntie, and all the furniture. He had to get out!
Then Erwyn jolted up, realizing what just happened. “Was that an earthquake?” he asked excitedly. “Will we get out of the house today?”
His Auntie looked grave, however. “It is time,” was all she said. Her expression made him shudder. Perhaps it wasn’t such a happy day, after all. But he wouldn’t let his Auntie’s misgivings ruin his eagerness.
Minutes passed and Erwyn inclined his head, waiting for something else to happen. Perhaps the door would break free during the next tremor. Or the roof would be blown off. Or the ground would fall out.
But Erwyn was not prepared for what happened next.
The roof collapsed on itself as a giant hand reached through the graham cracker roof. Sticky fingers reached for him, squeezing him painfully. What is happening to me? he wondered, dazed.
Then, the hand brought him up to an oversized face that peered at him curiously. A wide crack split its face showing off rows of white pearls and a large red hill. Just beyond the hill lay a black hole.
A beat passed. Then the hand brought him to the gaping hole, prepared to consume him whole.
He opened his mouth and screamed.
Is this my end? Is this where I die?
The last thing he saw was a crystal blue eye, glittering wickedly.
A navy blue scarf dropped to the white frosting below, draping over the mini gumdrops lining the roof of the destroyed gingerbread house.