Disclaimer: All characters and events related to Meet the Robinsons are owned by William Joyce and Walt Disney Animated Studios.


Warning: This story contains mildly graphic description of death and physical harm to others. Please read cautiously if you are sensitive to this type of content.


Currently looking for Cover Art commissions.


Chapter One: Billie

Wilbur rushed through the front door, dropping his backpack on the marble floor and kicking off his black high top sneakers. He was so thrilled that the school day was finally over, and was more than ready to grab a bottle of root beer, kick his feet up on the sofa, and watch afternoon cartoons.

"Hey, Mom!" he called with a huge grin splitting across his face as he ran into the living room. He hoped that maybe his mother could make him some chicken ramen as well.

The thirteen-year-old surveyed the room, taking notice on how quiet and empty the house seemed to be. That's odd, the young teenager thought. Where is everybody?

"Hello?" he shouted, trying to get the attention of anybody that could be around. Surely, there had be somebody home. "Anybody here?" he yelled out, scanning his eyes across the area. Wilbur took a few steps forward. His attention was drawn to a spot on the floor that he could not see in his line of vision just a couple of feet back.

There, in the middle of the room, laid an unmoving body. Brown curls fell limply around a delicate, lightly-tanned face with a look of frozen shock and terror plastered on. Large brown eyes were open so wide, it seemed that the eyeballs would pop right out of the head. Tear streaks stained on the woman's cheeks. Wilbur's focus was then pulled down the her chest. Brick read stains of what looked like drying blood was absorbed onto the woman's white tee shirt and the turquoise bodice of her dress. Clean, straight rips - each one about three inches long- scattered on the bodice and shirt. Fresh blood poured from the splits. It was now clear to Wilbur that those tears were stab marks from possibly what could have been a kitchen knife.

The teenage boy stared down in shock and disbelief. His eyes were extremely wide open, and his lips parted ever so slightly, quivering subtly. That was is aunt. There was his Auntie Billie lying in the middle of the living room, obviously dead.

While staring into her wide, lifeless eyes, he heard her animated voice ringing distinctly in his ears, as if she really was there in front of him, alive and well, "Hey-ya, Wilbur!" He continued to stare, disbelieving.

"Wilbur!" The audio he was hearing did not match up with the visual he saw.

"Is there something the matter, Wilbur?" She was dead, right in front of him.

"Wilbur?" Then why could he hear her?

He shut his eyes for three or four moments, longer than an average, normal blink. He shook his head, and there was a flash in his mind, cleansing the image away. When he reopened his eyes, Billie was no longer lying on the floor, and instead he saw her charcoal grey, knee-high boots standing in the spot where she had laid. Tilting his head up, Wilbur's sight met up with Billie's, who stood right in front of him, watching him curiously.

"Whatever is the matter?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"N-nothing," he managed as he began to walk out of the room, glancing at her in the corner of his eyes, and his hands now shoved into his pockets. As he left, he wrapped in his thoughts about what he had experienced. What had that been all about?


End of Chapter One


17 December 2007