Moving into a new house on your own is never easy.
Aria moves away from the city into a new home, deep within the forest on the outskirts of the small Louisiana town she grew up in.
She never heard the stories of the old rickety house, she only sa...
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Above are rough sketches from when I was mapping this story out.
Aria's POV
I gazed up at the old building before me. The structure looked old and worn down, and there were vines crawling up the front and around the columns on the porch.
I blew a sigh from my nose, hiking the box I was holding up a little bit higher. Slow steps brought me closer to the old mansion, the uneasy feeling in my gut growing with each one.
Four months ago now I'd put a down payment into this gorgeous place.
It seemed perfect...it barely was going to cost me more than living back at my apartment. The house was huge...bigger than anything I could have imagined.
But over the months, getting ready, signing papers, looking around...
There's something not right with this place.
But I waited far too long to voice my worries, the sale had been closed for three weeks now. I didn't have nearly enough money to pay what it would cost to back out now...
I was probably just being paranoid anyway.
I mean the house was big...and this is the first house I've ever bought, so that can be intimidating. Plus, it's in the middle of the woods.
It's just a few things I'll need to get used to is all...
Yet, as I carried my last box inside the house, every little creek and groan the old walls produced seemed to whisper my name.
I took a couple of slow steps into the foyer, and a strong breeze blew through the open front door, ultimately causing it to swing closed with a very loud slam.
I yelped and nearly dropped my box.
Very little information was disclosed about this house. Silly me thought the price tag was too pretty to pass up...
But now I think I know why the price was so pretty.
I scanned the room, boxes were scattered about with labels such as "television", "home goods", "decor", "bedroom", etc.
Another appealing aspect of the house was the furniture left over. All furniture in the house was vintage, left by whoever had owned it before.
When I'd first stepped into the house, I remember how I'd smiled big at it all.
Looking now, the place just seems frozen in time.
I placed the box I was holding onto the couch, the soft beige material creasing softly under the weight.
Another thing I'm going to need to get used to is the deafening silence...the quiet that came with the seclusion of this house.
I think I underestimated how awful living here alone would be...I already feel lonely. At least back in the city at my apartment I had my neighbors.
