Paranoid

1

     The big, dark blue house looms before me. It looks almost menacing, standing against the grey storm clouds that are beginning to form in the sky above. It also looks too big for just one person. The price, however, was perfect. It was about a hundred years old and needed a bit of work, so nobody really wanted it. Most families were looking for something they could move themselves into almost immediately. They didn't want a spooky looking, decrepit building that they'd have to actually fix up a bit. I, however, didn't have the luxury of pickiness. I needed to find a place to live for a good price by the end of September. I spent countless hours scrolling through home finding apps on my phone, trying desperately to find a house in my price range that wasn't located in the ghetto. A realtor friend of a friend had introduced me to this house, and it was almost perfect. Despite it's mangy appearance, it was quite nice. Plus, it was located virtually in the middle of nowhere. There was a good fifteen miles of forest between me and any other people.
     It was perfect, if not a little too large.
     Hesitantly, I begin walking up the white porch steps. They definitely needed a new coat of paint, as the current paint cracked with every step I took. I unlock the door and step inside. A musty smell, usually associated with old age, washes over me. A thin layer of dust seems to be coating just about every wall and floor. I walk into the entrance room and look around. A large, wooden staircase leads upstairs to my right. Next to that is an open, arched entryway leading into what I believe is the kitchen. To my left is yet another entryway. I peer into the room behind it's threshold and smile softly. It's a huge living room with dark purple walls and an elegant fireplace. It was almost like something out of a dream. All my anxiety of moving into a new home begins to fade. This place was absolutely beautiful, despite the cracked ceilings and creaky floorboards.
     I turn and walk through the entryway that I assumed had led into the kitchen and find that I was correct. The kitchen seems small compared to the rest of the house, but it's still nicely sized. It has marble counters (desperately needing to be dusted), white tile floors (looking a little brown now due to the immense collection of dirt upon them), and tons of cabinets (some of which were missing handles, and others missing entire doors). The best part of the kitchen, however, was the big picture window on the left wall. There was an open area away from the counters that had been named the “dining area”. That's where the picture window was located. The glass had been cracked and never replaced.
     Ah well. Just another thing needing to be fixed in a house of things needing to be fixed.
     I exit the kitchen and go upstairs, gliding my hand along the nicely carved staircase banister. My fingers left three trails in the layer of dust that resided on the banister. Kind of gross, but I could easily clean it.
     Upstairs and to the left was a hallway with two doors on either side. This hallway branched into two other shorter hallways; one with stairs leading into the attic, and one leading into the bathroom. I open the doors (both of which squeaked on their hinges) and peer into the two bedrooms. One had pink wallpaper and wooden floors, and the other had walls the same colour of the living room walls and white carpeted floors. I decided the latter one would be my the bedroom, and the other one I could use for storage.
     I drift down the hallway towards the bathroom. The door swings open with the lightest touch. It doesn't have a latch. I sigh and add that to my mental list of things needing to be fixed. The bathroom is also big, with a stand-up shower, a garden tub, a toilet, and a sink with four broken vanity lights above it. The entire bathroom is white, from the walls to the fixtures themselves. It's also covered in dirt, dust, and other things I'd rather not name.
     Satisfied, I walk back downstairs and to the living room, beginning to mentally map out where I'll place all my furniture and whatnot when the moving helpers arrived tomorrow afternoon. I have a lot of cleaning to get done before then, but I figure with twenty hours to work, I'll have it done for sure.

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     Twelve hours later, at 04:00, I've gotten nearly everything except for the attic and the spare room cleaned. The floors have been mopped, the walls have been scrubbed, everything has been dusted, and all that's left is sweeping my bedroom floor. My sweeper, however, is with the moving helpers. So that'll have to wait. I sit back on my heels and wipe the back of my hand across my forehead. My muscles were sore, and I was insanely exhausted. With nowhere to sleep, however, I was screwed. It'd be uncomfortable, but I decide I'd have to sleep on the floors with no blankets, pillows, or mattress.
     Sounds like a party to me.
     My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I answer it on the third ring.
     “Yo, what's up?” I ask, scanning the living room for any spots I may have missed in my cleaning frenzy.
     “Ariel? Where are you?” a deep but soft voice responds on the other end of the line.
     “My new place. Been cleaning all night. Why?” I spot a smudge on the window and scurry over to it with a dust rag and glass cleaner.
     “You didn't tell anyone. I was worried sick.”
     “I didn't realize everyone needed my daily itinerary. I'll make a note of that. And besides, I told Amy's girlfriend that I'd be out. You should've asked her.” Amy is my cousin and one of my only family members that I'm close with. I stopped by her house yesterday morning to gloat about my radical new house, but she hadn't been home.        
    “Well excuse me for not thinking of asking Amy's girlfriend. Anyway, what's the address? I wanna stop by.”
     “Denzel, it's four in the morning. There's nowhere to sleep here. And it's cold. Why the hell would you want to stop by?” The spot on the window refuses to budge, and I drop my rag to the floor in defeat. I have to replace the glass anyway.
     “Because I'm your boyfriend and that's what boyfriends do. Should I pick up something to eat?”
     “That sounds fantastic, actually. I'll text you the address.”
     “Great. See you soon.”
     I hang up and shove my phone back into my pocket. He wouldn't be here for a good half hour, so I had time to get a bit of rest. I ball my jacket up into a pillow-like shape and lie down on the floor, placing the jacket beneath my head in an attempt to make myself a bit more comfortable. Either it worked or I was too tired to care, because within minutes I fall into a light sleep.

A/N:
Unedited, so excuse any grammatical or spelling errors.
First and second chapters will probably be a little slow, but don't abandon me just yet. It'll pick up speed pretty quickly.
Leave feedback and as always, thanks for reading.