A/N: Hey guys, this is the first chapter of a tragic short story I wrote in like, six hours of intense music, paranormal television and slowing giving in to a really bad cold I now have :) I hope you enjoy it! Warnings: tragedy, ghosts, murder… Please review!
xxx He Who Descends xxx
The house was perfect.
Built around 1872, all timber plank, three story with one of those square type roofs which held an attic space which Edward and I planned to convert to a guest bedroom and library/playroom. The Victorian held three bedrooms on the second floor and a sun room, kitchen, dining and toilet on the first floor. The backyard was not huge, but it was by no means small either. I could already see a swing-set and herb garden, along with an apple tree and a few lavender plants and rose bushes; and English type garden. We were thrilled when we found out that the house had a toilet and sink on the first floor and a family bathroom and en suite on the second as well as preparation for plumbing in the attic.
Another family, a small one like ours, had begun renovations and obviously run out of money or some such thing and now had to sell it. Another thing that was obvious was that they were having difficulty selling it because we offered only $145,000 for it and the next day they congratulated us on our new home. Edward and I knew well that the house wasn't that big, however for the ornate and decorative nature of the house as well as the structural perfection that it was compiled of, it should have been worth more like $190,000 - $210,000. But, we just considered ourselves lucky, we loved the house and it was going to be a wonderful place to raise our family.
No longer than three days after we had transferred the money into the Wilmott's bank account and completed the paper work had we moved in.
I was carrying one of the final boxes into the house, Edward just in front of me, when I had to stop.
"Is this real? Are we really moving in to this cute little house?" I asked, not believing how great my life was going.
"We are," Edward said, pulling me against his chest.
I snuggled into him and squealed in excitement.
"Calm down," he laughed, "Don't wake Renesmee."
We both cast our eyes to the travel crib set up in the sun room. Our beautiful daughter was now almost two and so nervous about moving house that she didn't sleep a wink last night and fell asleep in the car on the long drive from Arizona to Washington.
Forks was our new town. It was cute, the people seemed friendly. There was a family operated kindergarten about ten minutes into town where we would take Renesmee two days a week once we'd settled in. She would eventually go to Forks Elementary.
"We got a lot of work to do here," Edward said.
"I know, I'm going to go tomorrow to the historical society and ask if they know of anyone who can replace the missing stained glass and the ironwork on the front of the house," I said.
Edward and I had saved for three years to buy our own place and let's just say we'd saved much more than what the house cost us. So we'd decided that the house needed to be brought back to life in a way that made it original. We wanted to bring back the house's former glory.
"Alright, sounds like a plan," Edward smiled, "I have work tomorrow so you're on your own."
That night we had take-out for dinner because the electricity hadn't been connected yet and the kitchen appliances had been ripped out in the previous family's renovation process and then not replaced.
Edward had mentioned that he would have to order new ones and the kitchen would be the first place we renovated.
The sun room was the only room finished by the Wilmotts and we hung sheets over the windows and slept there.