Whenever someone came home in a show, the first thing they would yell is, “Mom, I’m home!” Willow didn’t get that. It sounded ridiculous. Hardly necessary. She didn’t like talking to her mother and preferred silent greetings in general. 

The first thing you saw when you entered Willow’s home was a mat. Then, on the side, an umbrella rack. Next to that, a pile of shoes. Pile. A literal pile. The only time it wasn’t a pile was when they were expecting guests. Fortunately, they hardly ever had guests.

“Do I take off my shoes?” Arbor asked, side-eyeing the shoe pile. 

Willow thought about this. “Depends,” she said. “How long are we staying?”

“I know I said I needed to store supplies,” they said, walking up the stairs, “but I actually don’t need somewhere to crash.” 

The money was in Willow’s desk drawer, neatly put away. 

“Your drawer is so organized,” Arbor said, scanning the room. “Your room is the contrary. No offense.”

Willow shrugged. She didn’t have time to organize everything. Besides, she knew exactly where everything was. “My drawer’s broken,” she replied. “So I don’t use it a lot.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense.” 

“Hello, what can I help you with?” 

The man by the sliding doors smiled at them. 

Well, isn’t this normal, Willow thought, struggling to look into the man’s unblinking eyes. Two kids. Walking into a hardware store. No parents. 

“We’re good,” Arbor chimed, looping their arm with Willow’s and tugging them over to the camping section. “Come on.”

As Arbor scanned the shelves, Willow went back to the front to grab a cart. She thought she saw the man’s face light up, like he thought she was going to ask a question, which led her scurrying back to Arbor.

“Ooh, a cart,” they said, then continued to scan the shelves. 

They walked all around the store, Arbor leading, placing things into the cart and Willow trailing behind, pushing the cart that Arbor kept throwing stuff in. She wanted to remind them that they only had a hundred dollars, that a lot of the stuff that they had put in cost a bit more than that. The only problem was most of the time was spent rushing around, which left Willow quite out of breath. The other problem was she couldn’t find the right time to tell them.

Willow nearly crashed into Arbor as they came to an abrupt halt.

“Wait, is that–”

Their finger was pointed towards a kid in the tool section. They were wearing plaid shorts and a beige t-shirt. Honestly, they kind of looked like…

Willow’s skin prickled with goosebumps.

Butterfly.

Butterfly’s head swivled around for a moment, then his eyes met Willow’s. He froze. 

Arbor froze.

Willow froze.

The running came as quick as the freezing had lasted, Butterfly bolting out the door, carrying a handful of tools. 

Arbor, chasing after him, yelling, “Stop, we just want to talk!” 

Willow, chasing after Arbor, running with her cart as it thundered along the cement.

The man at the front of the store, chasing after all three of them, screaming, “Hey! You didn’t pay for that!” But his voice and footsteps soon faded as the cement that was once under them turned to grass. 

The three of them wandered deeper and deeper into a forest that Willow had never seen in her life.