Greeting your parents

"Hi, Evan," your father greets you. Looking around the room, he says to your mother, "Wow, honey, looks like our son's been busy."

"Did you vacuum and dust in here just for me?" your mother asks with a sweet, grateful tone in her voice that makes you cringe internally.

"Yeah, mom," you lie with a smile. "I remembered our talk about helping out more. So . . . I cleaned!"

You watch as your father walks toward the dining room table. You follow him over to find him holding a feather duster in his hands . . . the same feather duster you were using as Yvette. "Where did this come from?" your father asks.

"I just found it in the closet near the vacuum," you tell him.

"I don't remember owning a feather duster like that, either," your mother says.

"Who cares as long as Evan is trying to help us out?" your father says with a grin. "Way da go," he adds, giving your right arm a light, playful punch.

After a few minutes of conversation with your parents, you head into your bedroom, hoping that the now-invisible brunette does not have anything more in store for you today. You jump in surprise when your bedroom door seemingly shuts itself behind you.

"Hello, Yvette," the brunette giggles, locking the door behind her. With the press of a button on the device, she becomes visible again.

"Don't call me that," you growl at her.

"But that's who you are, dear," she laughs. "Because that's who I SAY you are."

Written by an anonymous author

Yvette once again

Add your own new page to the story!

Back to the parent page

(This page has not yet been checked by the maintainers of this site.)