True Ghost Stories and Hauntings 3 by Simon Murik

Author:Simon Murik [Murik, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paranormal Publishing
Published: 2016-04-20T06:00:00+00:00

“Oh, honey, I love it! Look at this crown molding, this fireplace, this wooden flooring!” I glanced over at my tall, dark, and handsome husband, who was rolling his eyes patronizingly at the beaming realtor.

“I don’t think she likes it,” he said, shrugging.

“Stop!” I squealed and wrapped my arms around him. Finally, after years in the smog and traffic, we were making the leap to the suburbs. Upstate New York. Where our children could play inside their white picket fence, the dog could play Frisbee in the yard, and if there wasn’t an ice cream truck, maybe I could volunteer a couple of days a week. Adam and I had been married for eight years, living the American dream, or grind. This house was our dream, our future. I would raise children in this house, bake cookies for the grandchildren, and eventually grow too old to tend the vegetable and rose garden. It was perfect.

“Well, it is move-in ready,” smiled the realtor. “I’m sure you will be very happy here. The school system is quite excellent, I’m told. And the train station is only a fifteen-minute walk.”

I took Adam’s hand and we walked again through the living room and kitchen. Then back up the stairs. There was a table here, a lamp there. The odd painting hanging crooked on the wall.

“How long has this place been empty?” asked Adam, pointing out a few cobwebs in the corner.

“Oh, maybe a few months. You know with the economy and all,” the realtor replied.

Adam nodded.

“And the few belongings?” I asked.

“They come with the house, dear. The owner is not interested.”

Adam and I looked at each other again. He took both my hands and kissed me. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

“Are you sure we can afford it? Really?” I asked, just wanting to hear one more time it was going to be ours.

“Yes, honey. We can even afford the cat,” he smiled.

“What cat?” I frowned at him.

“The one on the window sill,” he pointed.

I looked over the kitchen sink and, sure enough, there was a dark gray cat peering in the window at us.

“Oh my god,” I cried and ran out the patio door. “Here kitty, kitty,” I called, getting down on my knees and beckoning him. The cat gave me a curt meow, jumped down, and began rubbing and purring against my leg. I picked him up, and he nestled into my neck. I walked back inside with him. “Is this a neighbor’s cat?” I asked the realtor.

“No, I wouldn’t think so. The next two houses are vacant as well. I expect he will be yours.”

I grinned at Adam. Perfect. Just perfect.

The movers came the following week, and after a day of sifting through boxes, I was ready to flake out on my bed that was still just a mattress on the floor. That Adam had meetings he could not miss had not escaped my notice, but I could hardly blame him for avoiding the tediousness of unpacking boxes.

Simon, my new furry four-legged buddy, and I had it all under control anyway.

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