Safe House 415

Hazel eyes are the first thing I notice when I open the door, big, delicate, and broken. There is no doubt in my mind that they have seen things, things that most people's horrid imaginations can't even dream up in their wildest nightmares. If I give those eyes a chance, I wonder what terrorizing stories they can tell.
The boy who owns the eyes looks quite broken himself. His skin is all pasty and pale as if he has never seen the sun. As he stands in front of me, he is somewhat bent over, his short skinny structure hidden by old, dark, and baggy clothes. From the corner of my eyes I can see scars pecking out from under his thick hoodie sleeves. When he slightly tilts his head up to get a better look at me, the hood that hides his face falls away. The light drizzle of rain drowns his dark hair, gluing it to his face and forcing it into his eyes and chapped lips.
There is something about him that is oddly breath taking, and I find myself frozen in time, but suddenly his weak shy voice speaks, shattering the icy fog clouding my mind.
"Is this safe house 415?"
At first I try to convince myself that he never said that, but I knew the truth, I watched the words leave his lips. This boy is broken and seeking safe house 415, like everyone else who comes knocking at my door, so I shouldn't be surprised.

With deep dismay, I clear my throat and force myself to answer him. "Yes it is."
He nods slyly, making water droplets rain down from his hair. From behind the boy, someone coughs and I feel my body start to tense up in alarm. Someone else is out there, watching, waiting, but for who, I don't know. Maybe for one of the other residence or maybe for this new mystery boy, but that doesn't matter, my parents made this safe house to keep teenagers safe and that is what I intend to do regardless.
Sensing my nervousness, the boy at the front door moves slightly to the left, reveling a smaller figure behind him. "It's just my little brother." He explains shivering.
The younger boy looks up at me through his glasses, which are resting on the brink of his nose. He is shaking, but I can't tell if it's because of the cold or fear. I give him a small smile, trying to make he feel better, but he just shuffles uncomfortably behind his brother. His hair is more blonde then brown and like his older brother's, it's straight and flat against his face. His clothes are soaked, especially the black beanie placed on the top of his head.
My month forms a perfect 'O' shape as realization hits me. I almost laugh at myself for over thinking way out of proportion, but then again, you can never be too safe.
I open the door wider and move off to the side, giving them enough room to slip in. The older of the two brothers' nods and enters, taking the hand of the younger boy and filing in. With one more glaze over my shoulder, I eye the streets in front of my house. There is nothing there, but darkened shadows framed by weak streetlights. A small sound leaves my lips before I finally close the door.
I push myself past the two boys, as they awkwardly stand in the doorway staring at a lager white furred husky. She was originally sleeping on a rug near the door, but once the two boys rang the doorbell, she sprung to attention. "That's Clover" I tell them mindlessly as she sniffs their clothes. When she reaches the pocket of the older boy's skinny jeans, she lets out a snarl and bares her teeth. The boy slowly backs away, but Clover follows growling louder. "She can smell if you have anything dangerous on you." I explain to them, extending my hand so he can give me whatever has caused Clover to be alarmed. The older boy reaches into his denim pocket and pulls out a Swish Army Knife, but Clover continues to bark. I raise an eyebrow, and the boy huffs and takes out a bottle of pills. I take the pills and knife, and walk over to the kitchen, placing them on the counter. When I turn around, I notice they are still standing in the doorway. "You can come it." I inform them, but I watch as both their stares flicker to Clover. I can't help but giggle. "You don't have to worry about her, she harmless. Right girl." I smile at the husky. Hearing my playful tone, Clover waggles her tail and bounces over to me, nipping at my figures as I bend down to greet her. "My name is Frank Iero by the way." I give them a warm smile as I stand back up.
"I'm Gerard Way." The older of the two boys tell me. "And this is Mikey" Once again, Mikey pokes out from behind Gerard so I can barely see him.
"Well, first things first. We need to get you some dry clothes." I tell them, and motion for them to come with me upstairs. Clover starts to follow, but I stop her. "It's okay girl, Whiskey's upstairs. I need you to watch the door." She lets out a noise, like she understands and turns back. Normally Clover would be outside standing guard to make sure no suspicious characters enter the property, but because of the storm, she is stationed inside the front doorway.
As we move upstairs, the starches of claws on hardwood floor welcome us. " This is Whiskey." I tell Gerard and Mikey.
"How many dogs do you have?" Gerard asks me as Whiskey licks Mikey's hand. A smile blossoms across the younger boy's face. Gerard, spotting his brother's joy, grins too.
"3, my mom works at an animal clinic so she's always finding excuse to adopted puppies, not that I am complaining." Gerard nods as I talk, but I can tell that he can sense the truth behind my words. He probably knows, as well as I do, how dangerous a safe house can be.
It's not that I'm lying, my mom does work at an animal clinic, but the main reason for all the dogs is to protect the runways from their past. A few times, strangers have broken into my house trying to harm or kill the teens stowed away in our hidden basement. To be honest, I have quite a few scars from failed attempts.
"Whiskey is different though." I continue to ramble, not wanting to think about those difficult, dark times. "I found him as a puppy laying on the streets. A car hit him. I was able to bring him home and nurse him back to health. We tried finding his owner, but no one showed up, so we kept him. Ever since then, he's been my little guardian." I pet the top of the German Shepherd's head and start to wonder, what I would do without him?
We continue to walk down the hallway until we reach my room. "If we go down stairs to the safe room now, we'll wake everyone up, so you will be sleeping in my room tonight."
Gerard mumbles something as he walks in, while Mikey remains silent. I flick the lights on and the darkness vanishes instantly. Gerard peels his sweatshirt off and let's in drop onto the floor with a wet plop.
"Dry clothes are in the bottom drawer of the dresser." I point out. "Wear whatever fits."
"Thank you." Gerard's voice cracks.
"It's no problem really. Do you want me to bring up some food?" I ask them, I can barely hear their stomachs rumble.
Gerard glances at Mikey, who shakes his head in response. "No we're fine."
"Okay, well if you need me, I'll be on the couch down stairs." I inform the boys. Neither of them answers. They both look tired and half dead. I bent down and whisper in Whiskey's ear "Watch over them," before leaving the room with one last good night.
Down stairs, I collapse onto the cough, exhausted by the sudden arrivals. Clover notices my fatigue and paddles over to me to nudge my arm that hangs over the side of the sofa. "I'm fine Clover." I sigh, pushing her away. The back of my eyes burn and I just want to sleep in peace. Nothingness crawls at the corners of my mind as it wonders off, dreaming about the new boy with the haunted eyes and speechless brother.

Notes