Their assurance I won't yet lose the house didn't pacify me.
For the next August weeks, I am living like a zombie. Waking up from a sudden jolt of thought I'm now sleeping on the outside grounds. Or sleeping at night, no, I barely slept properly since that day. Every small inconveniences that no human was involved is making me think of terrible things. If a rat suddenly staggered through a glass, automatically I'll assume a person from the company is knocking on the door, finally asking me to leave the house.
We, indeed, talked the next day. The guy who called me was present and another person from the same company showed up, explained everything I need to know.
"But it's impossible." I replied after they lay the possibility of my losing it. "After their death, an attorney of them met with me and informed all the liabilities or will that definitely would fall to my hands. And he didn't even mention a single thing about this problem."
"Maybe he forgot to look for it thoroughly that moment, Sir." said the brown haired guy. "Look, at first, we're puzzled too. Look at these papers, yes, it's all under your relative's names."
The same titles the attorney laid on the table in front of me before is staring bac again. "But upon rigorous investigation, we found a flaw in this."
It all went blur but to sum it up, my auntie and, more specifically, uncle failed to pay the another lessor under the landlord. "The house has been with them for almost twenty years. Why only now? Why only now they're not here to defende themselves?"
They exchanged tepid looks and sighed. "The party that's seeking for investigation is old, sir. He mentioned when he came to the company he was shuffling with his old papers and come upon with his lease papers– more likely unpaid lessee. You see, we're quite baffled too."
I didn't budge. "Usually, the certification of the house title won't push through and become legal, or yours, if there are still impending businesses needed to fulfill. Since the data showed your auntie and uncle are now deceased, a special consideration will be given."
And that's the one where they will still let me in the house but the titles and other documents I only have about it are on hold, my finances are questioned too. Why? "If it's confirmed a few amount were left unpaid, you need to pay for it. That's the only way you could have the paper back, permanently yours the house."
At first, I was ablazeD by it; How are they assuming I could do it all alone? I told them it's only myself I'm holding onto but they can't do anything daw.
"We will try our very best to assure the house won't be taken away from you." they revealed. "Mr. Luicito is not present as of the moment, but when he's back, or not, someone will come to you again."
Then that means I have to work my ass off more than ever. See, the school play is around the corner already and ever part of the school are talking about it but I'm no one. Aside from I'm too busy doing commisions, I'm looking for some added jobs to do: consult some departments if they need an extra hands, beg the canteen if I could be a short server.
I almost completely forgotten about Louie and if it's not when his friends and I bumped to each other one afternoon, while I'm checking on my phone for some job opening, I would completely ask who he was again.
Their remarks and greeting are all about the play again and if I still want to try, there's still a position left but I politely refused. However, Louie was there too and we reflect the same distressed state. This is the first time I've seen him with dark and baggy eyes, his side lip bruised and his hair seemed to be cut without proper care.
"You okay?" he managed to asked.
But I need to get away and only a squeeze on his arm is all I left with him. Someone messaged me I could try with them.
YOU ARE READING
LOUIE (COMPLETED)
General FictionLeo is the one who could stay. Moving to Canada is the last shot to stay for Leo, and in spite of being ready of what might come, he found himself still getting confounded by what happened. He's crossed this path again, he's shed the same tears agai...