Why did you look at me like that?

After five years in college in Europe, Carl had finally came back from abroad. Standing before the front door to his house, he felt somewhat proud of himself, being able to live on his own for this long. He remembered his first days in dormitory—alone, thin, scared, lonely. Looking at himself now, he almost couldn't recognise himself. Twenty four years in this life. Not bad. 

Sun was slowly setting down, its rays radiating through trees' branches standing nearby, casting various shadows on the ground; neighbourhood after all these years was still so quiet, like noone was actually living here. Small concrete path functioning as a main road, small houses after small houses after small houses next to each other... None of it changed. Even those piercing gazes coming from the house at the other side of the road. The Whittens, as always, watched with their emotionless faces between dark curtains, as if something terrible would happen. Nothing bad happens in The Purity Garden.

Carl put his luggage on the ground; one backpack and a large suitcase on wheels. He did it carefully so as not to make any noise. For the same reason he didn't drive his car in front of his home, but on the completely other street. he checked himself one more time before ringing the bell: normal T-shirt, shorts and light shoes—a perfect outfit for the late summer, when it isn't too hot or cold, just warm, as it should be. Carl ran his fingers over his cheeks and a feeling of a shaved beard made him smile; he left only a goaty and a moustache, a tribute to his adulthood. It's good to present yourself somewhat mature, no?

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

"Coming~" He heard from the other side. His mother's voice. Still loud, maybe a little pugnasious, but at the same time... so warm. The door opened and there she was—with a little smile on her face and disheveled hair, wearing the same type of thin sweaters. The only thing that changed was the height difference; it almost felt like his mother shrinked herself, not that Carl had grown.

"No way!" She almost screamed with euforia, seeing her own son on the doorway, and before Carl could react, she hugged him tighly, placing her head on his chest. "How you've been, honey? Are you hungry? I made some spaghetti, if you want. How was the journey back here? Are you in goood health? You didn't informed us, you know. You wanted to surprise us, huh? Well, you did it just a bit too good, my heart almost jumped through my ribs right now! Now, let's see how your dad will react. Come on, come on."

With those words she let Carl go and stepped back, making way for him to come inside his home. The corridor smelled of tomato sauce, wood and a bit of an unrecognizable perfume. Following that smell he entered the living room with a big table at the center, full of salads, grilled chicken and aforementioned spaghetti. Around the room were hanging pictures, mainly of their whole family: four silhouettes in various poses, looking all smily and happy; dad, mom, he himself and his little sister, Sophie. Ugh, Sophie. This little, snot-nosed brat.

"No f... ricking way!!!" He heard his dad across the chamber almost dirtying up the house with a slur. Carl turned in the direction of the sound and spotted his old man, a thin, tall man with a good posture and even better voice, coming to the living room with a plate full of grilled potatoes.

"Hi." Carl waved lightly with a slight grin.

"Don't be so nonchalant." His mother patted him on his back racily and sat next to the table, looking at all the goods that her husband had made. "Show some love for your gray-haired antique."

"Elizabeth." Dad ephasized every syllable in her name, chuckling to himself; he placed potatoes on the table next to the chicken and spreaded his arms for Carl. "Think you can hide all this whiteness under all this artificial colors?" He muttered under his nose to his wife.

"Johnny!"

"What? If you didn't dye your hair, you would look almost like a yeti!" John laughed coarsely.

"Johnny!!!"

"I said not only said a truth, but also the truth."

With those words he hugged Carl tighly; son for a second thought that his father was a bit stronger than when he left. Well, without the help of his offspring dad had to help around the home somehow, he guessed.

John finally let Carl go after a while and patted his arm firmly; he kept smilling, checking him from top to bottom.

"How was the college for you? Was that master degree hard to get on English Philology?"

"Hey! That was my question! Don't steal" Mom exclaimed while grabbing all the goods of the table on her small plate.

"Ha! First come, first served! You'll have to think up of a better one!"

"It wasn't bad." Carl said calmly, peeking at the chicken on the center of the table. Come to think of it, he really started to get hungry.

"Nah, Come on!" Dad encouraged him and sat near Elizabeth, leaving one chair between them, so they can bombard their son with questions from both sides, jus the way they liked. "There has to be more to this than that!"

Carl shrugged and sat between his parents, looking with hunger in his eyes at the dinner; with smell compelling him to devour all that he sees.

"Maybe because he has a... girlfriend?" Elizabeth said with a smirk on her not so young face, peeping at her husband. "You know, keeping secrets behind his old-old parents. That' why nothing happened on the campus~"

"I couldn't in a milion years thought that you would be the one to ask that." John said in genuine surprise, bulging his eyes at his wife, and laughed right after that.

"Ha! First come, first served!"

"Did mom just guessed all your secrets, young boy?" Dad said, squinting his eyes in funny way at Carl.

"Actually... no."

"You're joking."

"It sounded like I done something terrible." Carl said and frowned, thinking at the same time about what to eat first. He was somewhat sad when he heard his dad, but he didn't want to show it.

"No, no, absolutely no, it just..."

"After all these years in new enviroment we figured that you'd find your sympathy, your second half." Elizabeth patted him tenderly, her smile not leaving her even for a moment. She was a perfect mother in every imaginable way, sometimes one couldn't even differentiate her from an angel. And she really resembled an angel, a brown-haired at that.

"Sorry for breaking your hopes, mom." Carl sighed and looked around the living room one more time, as if he tried to find things there weren't, when he left the home for college. After a while he found something—a framed photo at the other side of the room, standing at the small wardrobe. Is showed a girl standing nearby tree; it looked like it was summer, when that picture was taken. The girl's face was too far to see, so Carl tried to narrow his eyes. Even then, he couldn't get the gist of what that girl looked like. It wasn't like he had to see that picture up close, it just... it intrigued him.

"Don't be sorry, honey." Mom said calmly and then grabbed her fork laying in front on her. "Let's eat, shall we?"

"We shall." John said with a deep voice, like he pretended it this moment to be a great, feudal lord, and started eating dinner. Carl, after a moment of hesitance, joined his parents in a feast. He grabbed his beloved chicken leg and after putting it alongised some potatoes and salad, grabbed a knife and started to cut the meat.

Then he heard a sound coming from the second floor. Someone just walked on the stairs and started to come down to the rest of them.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.  

Those steps were very light, like a cloud or fairy itself was coming down to the living room; no creaks, no crackles. Just a soft sound of bare, gentle feet.

"Oh, right, Sophie." Dad exclaimed in muffled voice with food in his mouth. "You will be surprised, how much she changed, Carl. She's like a completely different person!"

"Lately she started braiding her hair, it's so cute!~" Mom added and drunk from a glass of water next to her.

Sophie entered the living room. Carl stopped eating at looked up at her. When he heard her name, he had an image of a small child not bigger than four feet tall, with messy hair, look that screamed 'superiority complex' and a sour face, like she didn't get, what she wanted. But what Carl saw before him was... 

...a pair of big, colorful eyes that looked at him the way a sister should never look at her brother.