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There was the sound of the ticking clock, ticking along side the soft Pinder patters of rain hitting the windows.
The occasional rumble of thunder could be heard, but it was muffled. Yet the vibrations of the outdoors could still be felt from the inside, as the ground quaked whenever a bolt of lighting struck.
Even with this, the thunder was considered calm, as if charging up. Not releasing it's full potential yet, brewing a stronger storm.
Tap... Tap! Tap... went the rain as little droplets hit against the side of house.
And if one listened closer, they could hear the whistling of wind as strong winds blew by. Grazing the house as they gushed past.
Tick.... Tick... Tick. went the clock on the wall, as one of its hands moved marking the time passing by, like the wind outside.
In unison these sounds created, the most memorizing song. Hearing the sounds of the rain hitting the house, rumbling of thunder, soft winds, and ticking of a clock together made one of nature's most beautiful lullaby's. Lulling those who heard it to sleep.
Outside, the dark cumulonimbus clouds coverd the sky, foreboding what was to come after these soft rains.
Even in the mists of the weather. The house, exposed to the elements, still managed to radiate a warmth. A cozy feeling. A hearth in what was the middle of a storm. Giving its protection to those inside it.
Serving as a barrier between them and the elements.
Keeping its resident inside it, unaware of the dangers outside.
--
The origins of house were kinda tricky.
It was a small pristine red house. sitting perfectly centered in a grassy clearing. It's roof was adored with blue shingles. Matching the color of the little adornments underneath it's windows.
For as long as little red house could remember, it had always been In the middle of a clearing, Surrounded by a seemingly endless colorful forest. The house didn't know how it got there in the first place, or how it came into existence. It was just there.
But where was There?
Not even the house knew.
It was as it had just appeared. Popped into existence one day.
There was notting to explain to it how it was there, or how a single house seemed to be built in the middle of no where. There were no paths or clearings or signs of civilization.
The house didn't know the answers to any of these questions, but it knew it had been there, Alone.
For a very....
very long time.
Sometimes the house would wonder to itself, Why was it built there And why not else where.
It was no use, it just made the house feel even worse about it's situation.
So It spent most of its time Watching.... waiting...
But for what?
It didn't know.
--
Over the years the little house had accustomed itself to a sort of routine.
It would start off the day with swinging open its shutters and pulling up it's binders at the start of dawn. Letting its Curtains swish and swosh along with the wind as fresh air entered the house.
In the kitchen once the sun was almost fully out, the house would swing open its cabinets and fridge, pushing out two eggs, milk and butter. Like clock work, it would get to work, cooking up a breakfast like shown on the Television, those house wife's on the TV taught it how to cook.
While skillful and graceful in obtaining these items, occasionally on somedays, for the house was not immune to accidents, it would make a mess. This day, such accident happened.
In the process of getting one of these ingredients, one of the eggs it had placed on the counter, rolled away.
shattering on the floor with a splat.
While most would find it a waste, learning to take extra precautions to never waste food again.
The house didn't.
Instead, finding it as a way to get another thing to do and even looking foward to clearing the mess.
For the house it didn't matter, it's not like it could run out off these things, it would always have more. In fact it could break a thousand of these eggs and still have more in the morning as if they were restocked. The house didn't know how, it just could.
While the house could techically make messes just to have something new to do. It disliked the dirtyness it created. It made the house feel unclean, and it didn't like the feeling.
The house creaked in dissatisfaction at the small mess on it's kitchen floor. A mop was pushed out of the supplies closet to clean it up. Inky Black tendrils emerged from the corners of the house and grabbed another egg to replace the one it broke. While other's focused on cleaning the mess
A frying pan was placed on the stove as the stove flared to life and bread was put in the toaster to toast.
This was usually followed with the static of a radio or television turning on. This time it was the television.
The television was playing a show with two people talking, a sitcom. The house knew what humans were but they seemed more like a fictional creature to It with how It had never seen a human before.
The show seemed like it was for kids with how it had little puppets and human children singing and dance on the screen. It was good enough for backround noise for the mean time.
While the house did have a clock to tell time, it didn't know how to read it. Nor did it understand the significance of it, only seeing it as a means of getting rid of the quiet.
Instead the little house opted to using its own way to tell time. By measuring how much time had passed by the amount of sunlight outside.
---
To pass the time it usally spent its time cleaning itself. It was a house after all. With all the rain outside, it could afford to let itself become unkempt lest it start becoming rundown.
Why did it feel like it was always raining.
Eventually like with all things, the house grew bored of this routine, open, cook, clean, wait, close... repeat. Open, cook, clean, wait, close... and repeat.
Over and over.
Sunrise... sunset, Sunrise... sunset, Sunrise... sunset...
Was this truly just it's purpose. To wash rinse and repeat until the end of time?
It didn't think so, it felt like it missing something. An emptiness where something should have been.
So the house wished and wished for something to fill that emptiness.
And as if God answered it's prayers...
One day It appeared.
---
An Untangible being . A beautiful creature.
It was Divine. Or was It was demonic.
Whatever it was, It was perfect.
---
In the middle of its living room, a small yellow and blue thing layed sprawled on it's front.
Thunder and rain stuck in the background.
It was humanoid. Looking similar to the humans on the Television but not quite.
why was it so colorful? The humans on the TV where never this bright. They had darker hair and tanner skin colors. Never blue or yellow.
The house didn't know what to do, this thing on its living room floor didn't exist a second ago.
All of this was so sudden. It was as if the thing just appeared out of thin air. One second it didn't exist the next it did.
Black tendrils warily reached towards the blue and yellow mass.
The house though they saw something like it before, a doll maybe? It was certainly plush like one.
Then the mass moved. It was the smallest of twitchs, but it moved.
The tendrils flinched back at the noise and the mass, doll? moved. It was alive...?
Cautiously the house approached the being again. This time actually managing to lift yellow and blue doll by its arm pits. They fell limp startling the house again, but a jerk stopped them from dropping them.
The house found it odd, but they couldn't deny they were curious.
Analyzing them in it's hold, the house realized, the doll was actually a puppet. One made out of mostly fabric and felt.
Their hair covered most of their face, it being a mess sticking and curling in all directions. Two of its most offensive pieces sticking up to form a v.
It wasn't the oddest thing. But annoying nothing less as the house kept trying to smooth it down but they kept bouncing up. Eventually out of frustration the house had to give up.
And Chose to move the puppets hair back out of their face instead.
The movement of tucking their hair to the side, revealed two half-lidded black eyes staring right back at the house.
They stared at each other for what felt like hours. As if stuck in a trance.
Then for a split second, thunder struck, casting a shadow that looked like it had two small horns on the wall behind them. Breaking that trance.
Yet despite the oddness of it all, the house didn't drop or throw the puppet.
The house just reached into one of it's bedrooms and wrapped the puppet in soft a blanket.
Leaving room for two adorably wide eyes to peak back.
Why did it do this. It didn't know. It just felt like it had too.
For the house had immediately softened at the first moment those eyes looked at it. Those half lidded eyes evoking feelings the house had never felt before.
Gone was the cautiousness of before.
It didn't matter whatever the being was to the house anymore.
For the house realized that it was no longer alone.
---
It was no longer open, cook, clean, wait, close... Open, cook, clean, wait, close...
That routine was broken with the new addition added to its existence.
Wally.
Wally always gave Home something new to look foward too. His paintings, his activities, his presence. It was all so refreshing for Home.
The house had never known how long it longed for someone's presence like Wally's. Watching all those television shows with family's and their domestic lives.
it realized, that emptiness, that void Home had felt before was filled.
Before Wally there was that ever longing feeling, that something was missing. But then Wally came along and he had filled that emptiness with his smiles and company.
Wally, had became Home's joy.
With wally, Home found it's true purpose. To house this little puppet. To keep safe, and make happy.
They made Home. a home.
And oh wasn't the feeling intoxicating. Addicting.
Like man that had only known hunger all his life,
Home was finally presented a meal.
A so like that man, Home grasped onto it desperately, making it impossible for anyone to snatch it away.
Wally was what that piece that Home had oh so desperately wished for.
And now that they were given it, they could never go back to how things were before.
No one could take this away from them, And if they tried Home would make sure they would never have a second chance to try.