The house of new beginnings.
Harry snorted sarcastically, what a horrible lie.
It was a beginning alright, but one that certainly wasn't new. A house of old memories and shivering spirits. Nothing in that damned house was new beside the furniture that he had brought.
The man watched the last of that plastic wrapped furniture carried across the lawn and into a moving truck. An action-that the night before- he didn't think he would ever see. He thanked every higher power that he could see it, even if it was bittersweet.
Harry's daughter- Quincy- sat in the lawn as far from her father as she could get. That girl insisted she hated the place the first moment they arrived, and suddenly she wanted to stay there until her demise. Quite strange if you asked him.
Quincy just stared at the brick walls of the large, ivy covered mansion as a large piece of machinery prepared to knock it down.
The house sat uneasily, the walls of stone seeming to want leap away from the large wrecking ball that stood in it's path. But the fact was, Harry wasn't upset for the house; It had survived far too long.
Just like he wasn't upset that his daughter would rather be kidnapped than go to a new home. Harry knew life would get better once he left this house, left this way of life. It had to get better, and so did Quincy.
He knew it was crazy to blame his hardships on a house that had no mind. But it had a soul, and there was no doubt about it. A dark seeping energy that sludged from it's walls and drained from its pipes. Harry couldn't change the fact that some idiot couple would find the land and build a new house, but he could get rid of this one. That was his duty to society, to tear the murderous beast of stone down until it was nothing but rubble.
The workmen shouted and got Harry's easily fleeting attention as they got in the mustard yellow machine. They didn't need to ask for the all clear, but they did have to ask to get that daughter of his away from the house before she got herself killed.
Harry sighed and trotted to the girl, picking her up by the hand," Come on Quinn, it's time to go now."
She ignored his pulling and sat stock still,"You said it when mom died, and we ran to a ugly house in the suburbs. When you lost your job, to the cheapest house in a ran down neighbor hood we went. And when you got that fantastic job out in the middle of nowhere, here we came. Where to now dad? Where is there even to run?"
Harry looked at her with wide eyes. She was right of course, what was next? Running forever was simply a thing that comforted Harry, no commitments and no worries. Sink broke? Sell the house and just avoid the cost of the sink. Wife died? Sell that house you spent your best years in and move to one where you won't wallow in self pity.
Wonderful goal, really.
But despite her correctness, he was bent on leaving this place whether or not it counted as running again. Sometimes it's good to run.
"We're leaving now, Quincy Elizabeth, get up," he said in his demanding father voice that he only used for serious occasions.
"Not again," Quincy glared with her icy eyes, a look she only gave the children she used to babysit.
Of course she would leave and continue the never ending house cycle. But she wanted to watch this building fall.
Maybe it was anger, or heartbreak, or the adrenaline rushing through her veins- but she wasn't leaving this damned piece of land until it was smashed to dust.
"I am not fighting with you, let's go!" He tugged her up softly, not wanting to hurt her. But also not wanting to stay there another second then he had too.
Quincy kicked against his legs as he dragged her to the car with what muscle he had. She even got a few punches in his arm before being locked in the car.
Harry exhaled with exhaustion as he walked away from the moving van. He could hear her trying to shout his name, but at this point, he would deal with her when they were at a nice motel.
"All clear?" a man in a dirty wife beater and brown slacks asked Harry.
"Go for it Johnson, I'll pay you when the job is done. Make sure everything's gone, and I mean when the place is nothing but a memory."
"Yes sir,"the young man nodded, and without questioning the motives of his boss shouted out orders until the wrecking ball was in place.
This was Harry's time to take his leave. He walked back to the moving van, and opened the door to a burst of screaming.
"This isn't fair! I hate you!" and so forth.
"I'm not having this discussion right now. You were right there last night, and I do not need to explain myself!"
Quincy's whining stopped abruptly at his comment and she slumped into the chair. Her eyes glued on the stained glass that acted as portholes into the large house. Her eyes started to tear up the longer she looked.
"Quinn, we'll be okay." Harry smiled as reassuringly as possible.
The teen didn't answer as the car went in reverse and as the engine reeved. Nor as the house distanced and the trees whizzed past.
She knew it would never be that easy. She knew the house would never let them go.
