Short Scary Stories

Burning Sage

"OK," the woman screeched, her eyes the size of plates, a grin the size of a banana strained to provoke some kind of reaction from her client. "So, that's the house, I know it's listed at 275," she lowered her head a little and dropped her tone, "which is a little out of your price range," her voice shot up in enthusiasm in the same manner that an over eager phone salesman, (who is way too old to be working at Verizon), would when he tells you about the new iPhone's features, "but I think you loved it and I KNOW you want to buy it, riiiiight?"

Andy, or Andrea as her boss called her, was quietly irritated by the real estate agent, but she knew that she could expect a subpar salesperson from the cheapest real estate agency in the tristate area. She also didn't like that the woman's name was Peggy. It seemed cliché to her on some level, as if it were the perfect saleswoman name. Regardless of this irritation, she was interested in the house. The house had been on the market for over 14 months, which in real estate time might as well have been six millennia, so, through what her boss sarcastically called her 'acute deductive powers', she determined that in order for house to be on the market that long there could be two reasons. Reason one: mold and water damage, of which there was none. Reason two: something unpleasant occurred at this house and it left lasting repercussions.

Andy reopened the dialogue, "275 you said?"

"Yeeeeessssss that's right!" Peggy so eagerly responded.

"Uh huh. So how long has the house been on the market?"

"Ohhhhh, not too looooong..." Peggy's insistent drawing out of words was becoming more irritating to Andy.

"Uh huh. And how long would that be?"

"...fourteen months." She pursed her lips.

"Ok. What happened here to leave the house on the market that long?"

Peggy sighed. She obviously knew, and even more obviously didn't want to say.

"Peggy, you know what happened here, and I would very much like to know." Andy was fairly certain that Peggy wasn't actually under any obligation to tell her what happened, but she also, over the last two hours, determined that Peggy was not a particularly intelligent woman and would most likely tell her because she probably simply didn't remember, or didn't know, that she had no obligation.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Ok, first, you just admitted that something happened here. Second, I'm not going to buy this thing if I don't get a little history."

Peggy was excited to see that she might actually close a deal, and that broke her.

"Ok, a little over a year ago a boy shot himself in the house. He was only 16 I think." Andy raised her eyebrows. "The mother went a little crazy afterwards. It was just her and her son, so it makes sense I think... it's kinda sad really."
Andy felt marginally shitty for what she did next.

"Ok, I'll take the house. Drop the price to 253."

Peggy was not pleased by this. Really, she was more sad than anything else. Not getting full price meant a reduced commission on the sale, but if she didn't close, she would get no commission at all. She pursed her lips again and held up her finger to Andy. Then she whipped out her phone so she could get confirmation from her boss. She did.

"Alright you have the house. Let's go back to the office and sign some paperwork."

***

Three weeks later Andy had moved into her house. It was a rather hectic day, but she had managed to get most of her things unpacked in the last couple weeks so today was just box removal. By the end of the day she was markedly tired. Luckily for her she had taken the next day off work to finish up her move in process. Around 11:45 in the evening she went to bed.