Unique

Unique {Ch.1}

This is what I get for buying a house without coming to look at it. I thought as I sighed getting out of my car and pulling up my knock off brand shades onto my head.

My over dramatized image of an old plantation house you see on the country side in the movies was shattered. It did have the huge expanse of land I was promised and also was a nice two stories. When I heard the price I knew there had to be a catch, but I needed to get here and fast.

Now I see the catch.

Even though the house had to have been a beauty in her glory days she was now reduced to nothing more than a mere ghost of her former self. The once pristine white paint was now an off putting grey color that gave you the image of something that a cat might cough up. Crawling ever so slowly up the columns and all over the house was ivy and tons of it; on top of all this the whole yard which spanned about ten to fifteen acres really needed a mow.

My mood now pretty desolate, I trudged up a path that seemed to be used from time to time and saw the porch wasn’t too bad off and only replacing a couple of boards would be needed. A new screen door would be needed also seeing as this one was ripped to shreds. On the porch was on old rocking chair that seemed to have a charm about it, but like everything else I saw here, it needed some work.

I gathered up courage I opened the actual door behind the screen door, my flowy top getting caught on a stray piece of wood sticking out ready to stab someone. I sighed and used my hulk skills to break it off without getting a splinter.

Taking my first look around the inside of the place wasn’t as bad as the outside. It had that nice vintage feel and you could taste the history in this house. Of course the place needed some painting and some minor fixes, but overall I really liked it.

I went over a flipped on a light making sure the electricity was on and tried out the faucet in the pastel yellow kitchen. Luckily they both worked. One less thing to worry about.

Slowly looking around determining that the downstairs was in fair shape I walked up the stairs. Gripping the rail I imagined the people over the years that have touched that railing. Families, Plantation owners, farmers, slaves. Defiantly not changing the stairs.

Upstairs seemed to be in the same decent shape as downstairs. Walking through the rooms making a mental list of things that needed repair.

Creaky floor boards, holes in walls, chipping paint…

Finally I came to a bedroom that I knew was going to be my room right off. It for some reason drew me in. The walls a rustic lilac color that immediately calmed the soul, which is exactly what I needed. On the far right was a door that I assumed led to a closet as the hardwood flooring seemed to add to the calming effect of the room.

What really caught my attention was the only piece of furniture I had seen in the house so far sat in the dead center of the room. A lone wooden desk that looked to be from around the eighteen-hundreds, that had drawers and I automatically went over to it running my hand over the wood. Then slowly I retch my hand out and tried to open the center drawer, but alas it was locked. I pouted making a note to call a lock smith eventually or just pry it open myself.

I turned to see a door attached to the room that seemed to lead to a bathroom. Which I was again happy with. In the bathroom over the sink was a mirror with so much scum on it you could only see a giant blur.

“Gross” I mumbled to myself taking a tissue out of my purse and rubbing it until I could see clearly. I took in my appearance after the ten hour car drive that made me want to shot myself in the face.

My strawberry blonde hair was up in a messy bun with some fringe falling back in my face. I also needed a shower ASAP. My light green almost yellow eyes stared back at me almost in a daze as they have been for years now. The septum piercing I had gotten a year ago still firmly in place and you could see the top of my shoulder in the mirror revealing the top of my tattoo sleeve. My sunken in cheeks and tired eyes reminded me of a much older women, not a girl of twenty-one. This is what I have been reduced to in the last four years.