Waiting Inside

My dad's arm squeezed us tightly as we stared up at the house. I wrapped my arms around his waist and stuck my head in the nook under his arm. He caressed my hair and smiled brilliantly. My dad and I only got a few moments like that. It felt comforting to be near him. It was askin nothing could ever hurt me again.

"I love you girls so much. Out new home has five bedrooms and four bathrooms. They are mostly on the second floor. Both of you may choose which ones you would-" before my dad could even finish Amanda was already clapping gleefully. I rolled my eyes but allowed him to pull us with him to the front door.

The house was much larger up close. However, everything seemed to be in poor condition. The paint was peeling, some windows had a BB hole and the porch squeaked like it was going to break. My dad's face was lit up so I didn't make any remarks. It would be too cruel. In his hand was a huge ring of keys. They were antique looking and they jingled beautifully. He used the largest one to open the door.

There was a hissing noise then a gust of wind shot out. Amanda's hair flung back and her eyes were wide. My dad giggled and pushed us forward though the door.

"The realtor said it will do that every so often. It's nothing to be worried about," he explained and kept the door open for uncle John. Amanda was already squealing. Inside it was utterly gorgeous, not like movie star gorgeous but rustic, artistic-type of gorgeous. It had character and I could sense how old it truly was.

To my surprise there was furniture left behind. Everything was draped in white sheets, even the walls seemed to be. Every so often I would catch a glimpse of the beautiful wood that floated the floor and the high intensity of the walls. What made the house gorgeous had to be the staircase. Something had made the white sheets fall from it. It was carved elegantly and swirled to another level of the house. I awkwardly stepped inside; my hands reached out to touch everything.

Amanda already raced up the stairs. She was, of course, more concerned about her room than the entire house. My dad gleamed with pride as his eyes ventured around the room. I lifted one sheet off the wall, under it was a large mirror with a thick border of wood. I smiled but put the sheet back. It would be exciting uncovering the furniture. Like a game of hide and seek.

"Someone needs to help this little lady," my uncle's country twang interrupted us. My day's head snapped back and he quickly took the box from a small woman's hands.

When I dad moved I got a good glimpse of her. She was in her thirties; smile lines and wrinkles already appeared on her face. Her darker hair gleamed as she gently pushed it back from her face. I stared at her as she smiled up at my dad. She was only a few inches taller than myself.

My day's face stretched into a huge smile. "Oh hello Cindy. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," he said politely.

Tomorrow?

The woman, apparently now Cindy, just smiled. Her red lipstick smudged a bit. "I wanted to see how your girls would react to this house. I know I was quite stunned when I first walked inside," her hazel eyes drifted to me. I made a face and turned my attention to the rest of the house. My dad touched me and introduced me to her but I just ignored her.

I wasn't going to make it seem like she was welcome. It was a family occasion. Not a realtor-shows-up-and-flirts-awkwardly-at-my-father occasion. He still belonged to my mom. Uncle John took her as his best interest to started flirting. Which made the whole thing so much more worse. Uncle John's country accent got worse as he showed off. He would make his twang obvious as a conversation starter; he liked to show off he owned a small ranch near Goliad.

Suddenly, in the middle of the awkward silence, Amanda's scream of horror flooded the house. My father was the first one to react. He ran up the stairs two at a time. I followed closely behind; my legs were much shorter so it took me longer. When I got there my dad always had her wrapped in his arms.

On the floor was a dead rat. Not just any dead rat but a half eaten one. It was mutilated in such an awful yet weird way. I stood there staring until my uncle and the bitch realtor came. She gasped at the sight. I glared at her, almost as ifit was her fault. I knew it wasn't but I didn't take well to women to flirted with my dad.

"I'm so sorry, pest control was supposed to depose of all the bodies," her voice was nibble; it was almost fearful too.

My dad soothed Amanda's hair. "What could have done something like that?" she asked out loud.

Uncle John bushed forward with a trash bag and picked up the creature. "Others must fed off him. It's no biggie, 'Manda. I'll get rid of him," uncle John smiled toward Amanda who only nodded her head.



We waved at uncle John as he left. Cindy had left hours ago, conventionally when we started to unpack the moving truck. As he left his eyes were focused not on us but the room I chose as I bedroom. Following his gaze I stepped off the porch and stared up. For a split second I could have sworn I saw someone. But it could have been the glare from the old window.

Amanda chose the largest room she could. It was on the second level and towards the back of the house. She only wanted it because it had a small kitchenette and its own bathroom. Both my dad and I tried to explain to her that was meant for guests. That even back in the day it was the servant's quarters. My dad didn't bother too much, we hardly had my guests anyway. If she wanted a stupid sink in her room, fine.

Come to find out the house had technically two levels, or stories. My bedroom was built from extra attic space. It did have a third level, but the realtor only counts it for people's attention. My room used to be an old nursery. It baffled me because the master's bedroom was on the second level. Why someone should want their baby on another level? It would be hard to walk up and down those stairs. I only knew it was a nursery because the walls still had the old wallpaper. The balcony was closed up from the inside too. My dad said he would open it up for me. On the left corner of the room there were writing scribbles. From years it deteriorated, all I could make out was Mary and Emily. My name being there kind of freaked me out.

The downstairs had the open flow concept. There were hardly any interior walls. The windows were large and flooded each room making everything bright and welcoming. The upstairs, however, seemed as if another person designed it. It was like a maze. Almost all the rooms had more than one access point, which made everything so confusing. My dad has ordered us to keep all the doors open for the time being. So I wouldn't get lost again.

Overall it was a large house. A very old, large house. Everything made noise and almost everything needed to be worked on. Luckily my dad said he got the house for a steal so he can easily pay for any damages. But something didn't feel right. Something that I couldn't pin point. I didn't know what I meant but I scared me to sleep in my room.