Girl Next Door (Complete)

Prologue

The rickety old house that my cab driver pulled up to looked a little daunting with the light of a new day. When I happened across it a few days ago, tears streaming from my eyes as I ran through the woods, I thought to myself, this is it. This is exactly what I've been looking for. To get away from him...from them.

I was so relieved to finally find something I could call my own. Something that I could put together, that would be all mine, that I immediately called the number on the realtors sign. She was ecstatic that someone wanted to buy the property, she even lowered the price from what she'd originally been asking. I had a nice little nest egg saved up from doing random odd jobs around my old neighborhood, and the price was well within my range.

When I met up with her the next day, she expressed her concerns for a girl like me living in a place like that. I assured her that I was more than capable of taking care of myself, and that I'd been doing so for quite some time. She was still a bit hesitant, but sold me the place anyway with an even bigger discount than she originally offered. She said that she wanted me to use the extra money for security purposes. She even recommended some nice hotels I'd be able to stay at while the work was being done on the house. I didn't tell her that I'd be doing the work myself. I thanked her, paid the price, and collected the keys.

Later on that day, when I returned to the small studio apartment that my father set me up in after my step mother passed when I was 16, I immediately began packing my things. I didn't have much to show for living in this place for the last 2 years. A suitcase full of clothes, a pair of sandals, along with the sneakers on my feet, a couple washcloths and towels, a few kitchen items, the twin bed I sleep on with one sheet set, and a trunk full of old books. I had all of my menial possessions, in this tiny place packed up and ready to go in a little over 2 hours.

The next thing I had to do was brave my father. He was scheduled to make a visit the next day, and arrived late into the afternoon. He took one look at the boxes I had my things packed into, and started berating me mercilessly. Calling me an ungrateful mistake. Any and everything that he knew would cause the most harm without having to lay a hand on me. He reserved that for his stepkids. I barely managed to make it out of that apartment with my dignity and sanity intact. I left there broken on the outside, just as much as I was on the inside.

My hoodie and jeans cover up the worst of the bruising. If they showed as bad as they did yesterday, I probably wouldn't have been able to get the cab that has taken me to my new home.

The driver gets out and rounds the car, pulling my things from the trunk as I pull my bookbag out from behind me and exit the cab. I pay the man, and he speeds off as I stand shocked, looking at the house that is now mine.

It's a single story Victorian, with a wrap around porch. The steps leading up to the house creak under my weight as I take my first step. The windows are boarded up, the grey paint is peeling, some shingles on the roof are missing, and the gutters are completely clogged.

Taking a deep breath for strength, I unlock the door, and push it wide open, letting the sunlight stream through. I step into the spacious foyer and look around, seeing all the possibilities for this place mapped out in my head. Dropping my bag to the floor, I give myself the grand tour.

To the left of the foyer is the great room, which it probably was back in it's hay day, now it's covered in sheets and cobwebs. I guess this is why the place came fully furnished. I can make out the shape of what is probably a grand piano, over in the corner by the window, covered by a big white sheet. Well, at least I think it's white. All the dust covering it makes it a bit hard to tell what color it started as.

I walk through the great room, and through a set of double doors off to the right. I've entered the dining room if the large table and chairs, also covered by sheets, is any indication. The sliding glass doors at the back of the room haven't been boarded up, and I'm able to see onto the deck in the back, as well as into the woods behind it. There's a door in the back right corner that I walk through, leading me to little breakfast nook connected to the kitchen. The kitchen is the only room I've entered that hasn't had sheets covering everything. The old school fridge looks like it could use some elbow grease, but it'll work fine. Same with the old oven. I'll have to call the realtor to get the electricity turned on soon.

Beyond the kitchen is a hallway to the left and an archway that leads me back to the front of the house. I take the hallway to the left and a few feet ahead is a doorway to the right, another doorway straight ahead, and two hallways that branch off at the end. I enter the doorway on the right first, which leads me to a study with a large fireplace off to the left. There's a set of double doors to the right, that I assume lead back to the foyer. Exiting that room, I continue down the hallway and open the door at the end. I'm greeted with a modest sized bathroom with a claw foot bathtub.

The hallway to the right has a door on each side. The door on the left opens up to a bedroom, the door on the right, a closet. The hallway to the left is shorter than the one on the right, and leads me into the master suite. The bedroom itself is large enough, without taking into account the master bathroom off to the left and the walk in closet to the right. Everything in the bedroom is covered in sheets except for the four poster bed up against the back wall. There are two bedside tables, and a dresser, as well as a standing mirror.

I pull the sheets off of everything inside my new room and then look around the house for a laundry room of some sort. I find a door in the closet by the guest bedroom that leads down into the basement. Surprisingly, there's enough light being filtered in through the small windows at the top, allowing me to make out the old school washer and dryer that I'm praying still work. Aside from a few cobwebs, the basement is probably the cleanest part of the house. I drop the sheets in my hands onto the floor, and proceed to go back through the house collecting all the sheets to eventually get the washed.

After all the sheets are off, I head back outside to bring in my boxes. As I'm carrying the last one in, I see a man standing on the porch of the house to my left. He's eying me with a curious expression and a tilt to his head. He's wearing a grey suit with a maroon tie, his hair gelled to perfection and out of his face. Black framed glasses sit comfortably on his face, obscuring the color of his eyes with the sunlight shining down on him. This man exudes perfection, which immediately puts me on edge. No one is that perfect.

"Do you need help miss?" The stranger calls out to me.

His baritone voice commands my attention. His words make me stop in my tracks, right on my own porch as I look down at the box in my arms. It's the last one, why would I need any help?

I shake my head, "No thank you." I respond to him.

Lowering my gaze, as to not trip on anything, I walk back inside my house and close the door. With all of the other doors open to let in the light, I can actually see the space around me. After placing the boxes in the rooms the items belong in, I grab a notebook and a pen out of my bookbag and start to make a list of all the things I'll need to get this place in tip top shape. I figure I'll start with the inside and work my way out. This is going to be a lot of work, but I know it'll be worth it. I finally have a place to call my own.