IFresh Air

A/N: A different POV for you guys. Tell me what you think!

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knGpvmyx1Dk&list=PLjjr7Wz3d2aicxWvhv3l-RLPtGdxtSxxT

“Appa?” she called while unlocking the door. No sound met her inquisition besides the breathing of the boy behind her.

Stepping into the foyer she removed her shoes and the light jacket she wore. The boy did neither, momentarily forgetting the strange human custom of removing ones shoes before entering their home.

“Appa?” she called again, taking note of the laughing coming from the TV in the living room. A small fleece blanket was curled unceremoniously on the couch. It was obvious that her father had already gotten home and begun watching his recorded programs.

It was the same routine he always had after returning from a business trip. The only thing missing was Misun sitting by his foot eating ice cream, and the man himself.

Turning to her guest, the newly acknowledged Fairy King, she said, “Wait here. I’ll go see if he is in the kitchen. “ She turned to walk a way, but didn’t miss the fact that a trail of dirt had been led into the apartment. Rolling her eyes at the culprit she decided to ignore it and continue on. Why bother, it’s not like we’ll be here long. I won’t be the one having to clean it up.

The kitchen light was also on; food strewn across the island counter; and the fridge wide open. She shivered as a sudden cold spot hit her. Her bare legs poking out from her work uniform prickling up in goosebumps.

Closing the door that let out the frigid air, she called to the living room, “He isn’t in here either. I’ll check his room. He might be showering, or fell asleep.” She received no answer in turn, the boy to preoccupied with his own sudden rise of goosebumps. The flesh seemingly induced by nothing seeing as the room he occupied was warmly lit.  

The girl walked down the almost dark hallway, trailing her fingers along the wall. It was a habit she picked up as a child, although she couldn’t recall where from. All she knew was that she enjoyed the rough feel of the wall texture; the way it slightly tickled her fingertips.

She stopped short of her father’s door.  It was slightly ajar letting light spill into the hallway. Another batch of gooseflesh rose, only this time for an entirely different reason.

All her life she had never known her father as a man to leave things half done. He was the kind of person who once started something, would finish it no matter what. No one could rush him, no one could deter him. Even for small things such as leaving things open. if he were to make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich he would take everything out, then put it all back up once finished using. If he were to open a cabinet for something, he would make sure to close it once the item was retrieved.

The fact that his door was slightly ajar worried her. He would never do such a thing. It would either be open all the way or firmly shut. This reminded her of the messy kitchen and the open fridge door. Both very unlike her father. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Is my mind so far away that I can’t even be aware of the obvious?

“Appa?” she called softly; her finger tips that once trailed along the wall now putting the slightest of pressure on the cheaply made door. The action caused the door to swing in slowly, the hinges creaking in an eerie way she didn’t know they were capable of. The brightness of the room hit her first. She had to squint her eyes to let them adjust. Apparently her father had put new light bulbs in.

Besides the light, the room was empty. No living being inside, just her father’s suitcase lay strewn on the bed. The clothes scattered lifelessly out of it. This was also unlike her father. He would usually come home, put his suitcase in his room, sit down to watch TV w