wally's lament.

[ 22 ]

⫸——⫷

The good news was that Wally was right about Home not wanting to kill you on regular days. The bad news was that you still had a lot of unanswered questions about him.

After going back to the post office from visiting Wally's house, your heart was racing. He had admitted to loving you. That alone was enough to frazzle your nerves, but combined with everything else that was going on with Wally, you nearly felt like you were going insane.

The heart-fluttering sensation remained with you for the rest of the day. You left work, leaving Eddie to his relentless, self-inflicted labor at the post office, and went into town to look at books. You bought several at a cute little bookshop you spied the other day. Then, you walked around with all of your books in a little paper bag, looking at houses. As you walked, the brisk autumn air biting at your face, you thought about Wally once more. 

Wally seemed normal earlier, like he had not just killed someone last night. You assumed that this would be the case, since it seemed like Wally had been doing this whole 'murdering for Home' thing for a while now; of course he would know how to compartmentalize. Yet it was still baffling to see how well he knew how to put on a facade.

Although your curiosity still ached about why Wally needed to kill people and who he had killed, you made an effort not to think too hard about it. Some day, you would find out all there was to know about Wally, and that day both terrified and intrigued you. But if Wally did not want to give you any more details yet, there was no point in pushing him for them simply for your curiosity. He had saved your life, after all, and he apparently loved you, so the kind thing for you to do would be to remain patient with him.

And, as long as he did not kill you, Julie, or anyone else that you found yourself liking around here, you supposed that you did not mind if he was a murderer.

On your walk, you eventually came upon a cute little house that caught your attention. Your train of thought snapped in two like a cracker.

There was a sign on the yard in front of the house, advertising a sale. You approached the sign and saw both a phone number and an address listed for the sale of the home.

Could this be an opportunity for you? You had seen other houses for sale, but none of them had caught your eye like this one. Currently, you had enough to make a down payment on a small house, since the cost of living here was so cheap, and the post office job would surely keep you up to date on continuing to pay it off.

You stood still for a while, staring at the sign, but something nagged at you in the back of your mind, something small and child-like and frightened.

Were you really going to do this?

There was no reason for you to be doubtful of yourself. Buying a house here had been your plan the whole time — what was the point in second guessing yourself now? But, staring at the sign and the adorable home in front of you, your heart twisted.

Perhaps you missed your family and your old life. Or, perhaps you were scared to fully settle down in this town, given how odd it was. Perhaps both of those things were causing you to feel weird. Or maybe you did not want to live by a serial killer, or maybe this house would be alive like Home and would force you to kill people —

You cut your thoughts short with a sigh. No more thinking.

This was your plan. This town was your town now, and maybe, this house would be your house, too. You could not reminisce in the past, not now, because there was no going back to your old way of life, not after everything that happened. There was no going back to your family, either, until you got the chance to safely contact them, which could end up being soon.