You know that feeling you get, the one after a big change when you know you're in over your head? The hollow ache of nausea in your stomach? I feel it in this moment, as pictures of apartments and small houses stare back at me and my real estate agent blabs on and on. I hear her, but I'm not listening to a word.
I have no clue what I'm doing. It started as a move across town, then requesting a job transfer, then a move two states over to Kansas City, Kansas. I couldn't stop, my three older brothers supported the changes while my mother begged me to stay, I couldn't regardless of if I wanted to. I have no idea why I can't stop.
"Do you have any available fixer-uppers?" I spout out, shocking the agent.
"Well," she puts down the photos of the apartment she was trying to show me, "Mr. Triveley, we certainly have projects but most apartments in the area-"
"I don't want an apartment, I want a house. I want a big, run down house that needs fixing."
Her large silver eyes stared at me quizzically, she slowly turned to her computer and started hitting keys.
"There's one house," she stars at her screen a little taken aback, "It's certainly in your price range, over $100,000 under budget. It looks like it's been on the market for over five years. It certainly needs fixing."
"I'll take it."
"Are you sure? I can take you to go see it first," she insists, "It's a major property."
"I don't care, I want it."
"Sir, please, I insist we go see it. I can take you right now."
I nod and stand as she rushes to grab her phone and print the house information. She stumbles over her tiny feet, trying to keep up with me.
I unintentionally rush out to my car and settle into the drivers seat. Watching in the mirror I see the realtor do the same but with less grace. She pulls away from the curb in her little dark gray sedan and I follow her down the road.
I hear my suitcases bouncing in the trunk of my car. Thank god my mother and brothers aren't here with me. Trevor, Lewis, and Anthony would laugh me out of town if they found out what I was doing, they've never seen me in anything but a one bedroom apartment and I'm certainly not handy with repairs. Poor mother would assume it meant that I was planning on settling down and having a family.
Being the baby of the family, she dotted on me the most. Trevor had just gotten married in March of last year, Lewis had his third son almost a month ago, and Anthony was moving in with his girlfriend of six years. Mother was just waiting on me, trying to set me up with her friends daughters, even having my brothers try and find someone. I was just never interested.
I couldn't tell her about this house, I couldn't bear getting her hopes up.
Watching as the houses and businesses get scarce I notice now it's mostly farms, spread out from one another. Commuting to work will suck ass if I get any farther from the city. Honestly though, I really don't care.
I don't actually start working again for another two weeks, I'm still supposed to be home with my family. I packed up and left earlier than anyone expected. I just don't own much stuff. All my furniture is in a Uhaul attached to my car, along with the few boxes of things I have. All my clothes fit into the two suitcases I had. It was easy to leave.
Slowing to a stop, both me and the agent step out to see what I assume is the property I plan to buy.
"This is it Mr. Triviley. I really urge you to reconsider, while this home has potential I don't think it's the right home for a single man such as yourself," I hear the discomfort in her voice as we look at the mess of what was once a home.
"What can you tell me about it?"
She shuffles her papers, "It was built back in 2000, and the man who owned and built it, died a few years after. It's bounced around a bit, it seems the bank repossessed it from the last owner in 2011 and it's been here waiting ever since. From what I can tell, it's always been pretty run down, almost getting worse with each owner."
That must have been an understatement. The home appears to be made mainly of wood and stone but you can't tell because of all the plants and vines covering the sides of the house. Graffiti covers the broken wooden patio and the doors. Looking up I see the windows broken, vines trailing in and birds nesting in the ruins.
I'm insane. I have to be.
"I'll take it, how much? I want to move in right now."
"Uh, I can't let you move in right now, closing takes 30 days. It looks like the house itself with all it's fees and such is selling for about $110,000 which is a huge steal. The bank just wants it dealt with and it's in pretty bad shape. You could probably just buy it in cash. Would you like to see inside?"
I nod, not removing my eyes from the second floor windows. Something about this house feels very off.
We walk together to the door to find the lock broken. I imagine this house must make a good hang out spot for teenagers. Although, the inside makes me think teenagers would run away.
Floorboards broken, the walls have holes, stairs too busted to climb. The stairway railing was laying in pieces on the floor, half of it had fallen into one of the holes in the floor.
"So," the poor realtor is trying to watch her step, bouncing around over broken boards, "It's supposed to be a six bed, four and a half bath. There's an office space I think to the left here, off the dining room. And this I guess was the entry and living area."
"I'm guessing we can't go upstairs," light streams through the shattered glass of windows, and we can see the dust rise and fall with every move we make. I feel a pull upstairs.
"No I wouldn't recommend that," She chuckles gently, trying to catch up to me. She falls as her shoe catches a floorboard.
I dart over, narrowly catching her in my arms and not taking into account how much it would hurt.
"Are you alright?" I inquire as she tries to stand up again.
"Yeah, thanks," She keeps her head down and runs her hand over her skirt, "Sorry about that. Grace was never my strong suit."
I crack a small smile, though it feels alien.
Stepping away from her I look back up to the stairway. Part of me thinks I see a shadow run across the room.
Probably a bird. Must be a bird.
I shake off the weird feeling and roam through the house some more. With some work it'll be an amazing home. Big dinning room, big kitchen, amazing office. Maybe when I finish I'll have mom move in. Maybe I'll give it to one of my brothers. Maybe I'll stay. Maybe I'll break every bone in my body trying to fix this hellhole.
I'm absolutely insane. Mother would kill me. My brothers would laugh. I want to laugh.
This is crazy.
But I really don't care.
"I'll take it."
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