Disclaimers: Mine, all mine.
Violence: None.
Love/Sex: Yep, of the female kind.
*
I bought a house two days ago. I know it's kind of strange for that to be the first thing you learn about me, but hey, I'm still trying to get used to the idea of having a house of my own, myself. It's not very big, more like spread out. It has one floor, three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a pool...the bare essentials. I've only moved in today so I'm still a bit disoriented when it comes to the house and everything in it. Well actually, there's nothing in it. It's empty and only now, as I walk through the house, I realize just how many things I still need to buy. I'll probably just fill it with my old junk and make it look very much like my old house. Why buy a new one, you ask? Well, because I got tired of the old one; its spirits didn't like me. Now don't laugh, every house has its own unique spirit. I wonder what lies behind this one.
Walking around the place, my eyes crawl along the barren walls, stripped of some kind of wallpaper. A few lamps had survived the move of the early owners and a couple of closets still decorated two of the bedrooms. 'I'll have to look through them to see if they're worth keeping.'
I go to the bathroom and look around. It's the only place of color in the entire house. It's painted a bright blue that makes my eyes squint. I glare into the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall, just to receive a hard glare back. My blue eyes are a bit bloodshot from exertion and I detect a faint tinge of darkness under my eyes. I smile at my reflection and am rewarded with a pearly white shine. My white t-shirt is loosely tucked into my blue jeans and I notice that I have lost a bit of weight, making my lanky form seem even more so. I'm not too sure if I'm interested in that model look or not.
Forgoing my perusal for another day, I move into the kitchen in search of something to eat. 'Thinking of models always makes me hungry, I don't know why that is.' I search through the remaining cabinets but find nothing. "Now I know why that mouse was running out of the house instead of in," I mumble to myself. My stomach is grumbling in protest, but I think I can manage till I find the phone directory. Rummaging through some of my still packed things, I find the directory and flip it open. Looking for a good Chinese restaurant, I pick a winner and dial from my cellular. I give my order and hang up the phone, my stomach rumbling in thanks. I decide to at least get some work done while I wait for my food to arrive. When I say work I mean unpacking, of course.
If you're wondering what I do for a living though, I'm a writer. I don't consider that work because to me, it's much more than that. If I do happen to perceive my writing as a chore one of these days, I'm afraid I would have to stop. You see, I was born lazy, nothing you can do against that.
Anyhow, as I was browsing through my things, I found the box I had so helpfully marked "My Things" in great big letters. If that doesn't clue you in as to what is in that box, I sure don't know what will.
I opened the box and surprisingly enough, found my things inside. Picking the box up, I howled it over to the room I decided would become the master bedroom. It was probably the largest of the three with a nicely-sized private bathroom. It had probably belonged to the parents of a family, at one time or another.
I placed the box down and looked around. A lone armoire stood in one corner of the room. My bed, hopefully, would be arriving sometime today, in case you were wondering on what I was planning on sleeping tonight. Walking to the armoire, I opened the middle cabinet and looked around. It was empty and smelled of stale dust. Yes, stale dust actually has a small.
Opening the drawers, one by one, I decided to start arranging my things inside. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, kind of like my writing. I decided I liked the armoire and desired to keep it. After working diligently at putting my things in their new place, I straightened up and sighed. My body was beginning to protest and I had to take its side on this matter. It had been a long few minutes of hard labor. Leaving the slight mess I had made behind, I walked out of the room and entered another. The color on the walls seemed to be fading, making it unclear as to its original color. My mind immediately conjured up all sorts of images and thoughts. Who lived here before, who did this room belong to? Walking to the closet left in the room, I decided to explore it as well, on the off chance that something was left inside. I searched through all the drawers twice and came up with nothing. I even took one of the drawers out because I thought I saw something hidden in its depths. You really don't want to know what I had found. When I bent down to push the drawer back in, I felt something bump into the drawer, keeping me from pushing it inside as my poor back demanded. I pulled the drawer out again and placed it on the floor. Bending down to take a better look, I noticed something. I put my hand inside blindly, hoping that it wouldn't meet with anything that moves and grabbed the offending object. It was a smallish, leather-bound, notebook. Taking it with me to the living room, I dusted it off.
I was just in time too, since my lunch decided to ring the doorbell at exactly that moment. I opened the door, tipped the guy and took my food eagerly, ignoring the shocked and slightly scared look on the delivery man's face. What? I was hungry!
Opening the containers, I delved inside as I opened the notebook and took a seat on one of the boxes. On the front page of the notebook was scrolled in somewhat childish lettering, "Jeanie's diary."
"Hmm..." I hummed to myself in interest. 'I wonder who this Jeanie is and why she left her diary here. I sure wouldn't leave mine behind.' I smirked.
