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the date was unknown to me, however i'm sure it's some time in summer of 1993. my family and i have just moved into a small lively house next to what's most known as the murder house. i was told that the woman who lives there now is allowing my mother to rent out an office space inside due to her own investment problems. my mother is a busy woman when it comes to her work, and this small house won't satisfy her office needs. she's a teacher who helps struggling kids who can no longer go to school, or just needs help after school. at our old house she had an average of 10-15 students a day which was a good deal for her business. i met a few of those kids mother worked with, mostly the kids who could no longer go to school due to violence. most of them were actually nice, but very flirty.
i've always lived in LA, only my time in each house has been short. my father always feels like we need to move, however this move was rather disappointing. our last house was beautiful and not decorated with horrid yellow paint. it was quite large too. this house well.. it's certainly got personality but not one that i really appreciate.
"i'm off to set up the office, adele. can you fix up some dinner later? your mother won't be here until tomorrow." my father questioned as he opened the front door with struggle. he wanted to do some act of kindness for my mother since she wasn't too excited about the move.
"can't i come with you? and we can get takeout later?" i suggested and ran over to grab the box out of his hand but he wouldn't let me take it.
"your mom said not to allow it.... fine come on. i suppose they should meet you after all." when he gave in it caused a smile to spread across my rosey face. "just don't let your mother know. she'll be displeased." i had no clue why mother would be upset with the idea of me helping father set up her office, but i won't tell her if that's what father wants.
the sun's rays hit my skin as we carried the boxes outside. it was beautiful here, oh yes indeed. i admired it. father reached to knock upon the tall chestnut doors, but before he could even get near it, a woman opened the doors. she had a white dress on and curly blond hair. "come in, father. oh and mrs. valkit?" the woman eyed me with wonder but i just gave her a smile.
"that's uh- that's my daughter." father chuckled to himself as the woman closed the door behind us. "so where is this office mrs. langdon?" the women lit a cigarette before blowing smoke out the corner of her mouth.
"follow me. it's right up these stairs. so what is it exactly your wife does, father?" the two adults conversed as i slowly walked behind them, admiring the wooden house. everything inside was so beautiful and unique. i wonder how long it must've taken to build such a house.
"adele, hurry along." my father rushes me as he turns into his office. my sneakers traveled along the flooring until i entered the devine office. oh father will surely love this place. "take those shoes off before you damage the flooring." i nod and lean over to untie my shoes only to feel like someone was watching me.
"oh, i must warn you father... this house has soul. it's not named the murder house for no reason. people walk these halls when you least expect it. the only people in this house that you will see are my son, my daughter, larry, and me. anyone else is... well not alive i'm afraid." she paused and took another puff from her cigarette. "anyway, i'll let you set up your wife's office. rent is due on the last friday of the month. i expect it no later than that." the woman walked off without another word.
"she's only trying to mess with you adele. don't worry, nothing is in this house other than us and her family. now, unpack that box please and i'll tell you where to put everything." i nodded and began to fiddle with the box.
"i can't get it open. i need scissors or a knife." i huffed and stood to place my hands on my hips. my fingers wrapped around my oxygen tank as i leaned on it lightly.
"go ask mrs. langdon. i'm sure she has a pair of scissors, adele." father was in a mood, i could already tell. i debated on slipping my shoes back on, but i knew father wouldn't want me to. i walked down the grand staircase until i reached the kitchen.
a teenage boy dressed in black jeans and a cream colored sweater rummaged through the fridge as he tried to find some food. "excuse me?" i spoke very softly until the boy finally turned to face me. his eyes widened as he took a bite out of a hot pocket.
"who're you?" he asked with a mouth full of food. the boy looked rather frightened by me, but i didn't think much of it.
"my mom is renting the office upstairs." he nods slowly to show he was listening, yet he still thought i was crazy. "can i borrow a pair of your scissors? we're unpacking boxes upstairs and-"
"yeah, here." he slid a pair of black scissors over to me and finished his hot pocket. "so what's your mom do?" his mother must have convinced him that other beings exist inside of this house which in fact didn't.
"she's a teacher for troubled kids." i pushed my bangs out of my face and looked down to my feet that were covered by plain white socks.
"and your dad?"
"well he's a priest of various religions." the boy chuckled and looked behind me as his mom walked in. "hi mrs. langdon. i was just searching for some scissors." i flashed an awkward smile and left to my father again. that woman has some type of horrifying feeling about her. "here dad." he rips open his box and hands them back to me so i can open the other one.
when i opened the box a picture of our family was the first thing i came across. seeing us happy always made me smile. "can you breathe okay?" he asked as he took the picture out of my hands.
"i'm fine." father always feels the need to check up on me due to my cystic fibrosis. "you don't have to check on me dad. if i need anything i'll tell you."
"well i hope so, adele." the two of us continued to unpack his office and talk about how going to the new school could be stressful. i'll know a few kids from middle school so i think it'll be fine. like i said, we didn't move to far from our old house.
"it looks nice, dad." we broke down the boxes and got ready to go back out and get some takeout. "what do you think? do you like it?" he bobbed his head yes and took the box from my hands.
"let's go. it's getting late." i slipped my shoes on and grabbed the handle of my oxygen tank. as we walked i peered inside of one of the rooms to see the same teenage boy as before. his eyes lifted and we made contact. i waved him a sweet goodbye but he didn't bother to do the same back. what an odd person.
