The Cellar

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The house loomed in front of me like a lion standing over its prey.  The white paint was cracked and peeling it covered every inch of the old house, many of the formerly black shudders loosely clung by a single hinge…it had seen better days. 

Tall weeds grew in the yard suggesting it had been several weeks since the lawn had been tended to.  I still didn’t know why my father had accepted a job in this small town, but he did so here I was standing, still clinging to a box, in front of the old house that I now had to call home. 

“Thomas hurry up and take that inside” my mother called being sure to cover the microphone on her Bluetooth, she didn’t want the client to hear. 

“Yeah Yeah,” I grumbled under my breath walking up the moss covered stone steps. 

Inside, the house was dark despite it being the middle of the day.  A strange odor found its way inside my nostrils as I entered the foyer most likely from being closed up for so long. 

The old steps creaked under my weight as I started up the stairs, the first time I went upstairs I thought they were going to collapse, but now I came to expect the creaking. 

Like the rest of the house my room was dark that changed with the flip of a switch.  The light illuminated the room while the ceiling fan roared to life sending dust particles through the air.  At one time the walls had been painted a dark green, but over time it faded now they were a pale sickly color.  My parents said that we could repaint them, but I doubt that will ever happen they will be too busy with work.  I set the box in the corner of the empty room; the moving van hasn’t yet arrived with all our furniture.

Out the window my little sisters chased each other through the weed infested yard laughing as though they didn’t have a care in the world as though we didn’t just move from California to this small town in Kansas.  My father busily carried another box from his old 2000 pickup truck while my mother continued the conversation with her client; after all, she was a consultant for a large firm who was allowing her to work out of our new house. 

“Thomas where are you?” my father called on his way back out of the house to get another box. 

“Coming”

I quickly exited my room.

Just at I got outside the large moving van pulled up spewing diesel fumes everywhere. 

My father shoved the box he was carrying at me so he could direct the movers where to put the large items. 

It only took a few hours for the movers to have the truck unpacked, filling our new house with boxes. 

“Kids find the boxes with your name and take them to your rooms.  Thomas help your sisters if they need it,” My mother instructed

She had finally hung up the phone…for now. 

“Yeah,” I muttered finding my first box I took the old steps two at a time.

Even with everyone downstairs the house seemed eerily quiet as I made my way to my room.  Now that the movers had finished, my bed was against the right wall while my old brown dresser occupied the space on the left next to the closet door.  I set the box down next to the one I carried up earlier and began my trek back down to do it again. 

“We’re going to order pizza for dinner,” I heard my mother say as I entered the living room

“That’s fine dear,”

My father was busy tinkering with another one of his gadgets; I don’t think he was really paying attention.  He likes to invent things, although his inventions don’t always go as planned, so he took a job at a local company his official title Innovative Engineer but mainly, he just gets to use company resources to bring his hair-brained ideas to reality. 

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 01, 2013 ⏰

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