Skeletons in the Closet

There are phrases that cause me to roll my eyes, and others that give me pause. The phrase 'skeletons in the closet' will never have the same, innocent connotations again. I sit writing this from the diner down the street of my new home. Why you ask? Just sit tight. I'm more than willing to tell you.

I signed the last of my paperwork sitting in the dining room of my new-old Victorian. The home was 75 years old, and looked like nothing had been changed in it since. The wallpaper had aged, light rose color with floral patterns adorned the room. There was a certain charm to the old place, though the wallpaper and the rugs would need to be torn out, I thought silently assessing the room while the lawyer looked over the paperwork.

"Ok. Looks like it's all set. I don't understand why the hell you wanted this place." James furrowed his brow and tapped the paperwork back into a nice neat little pile. I just laughed and stood, looking out the window in the backyard.

"The views are amazing. Besides, who wouldn't want this place?" I mused and tried to open the window. It was stuck due to humidity and I rubbed the back of my head, making a mental note to change out the windows. I heard a soft chuckle from the table, watching my failed attempt.

"Someone with a bad shoulder." James mused and tucked the papers into his briefcase.

"And I'm the egotistical one? You don't have to make this all about you..." I joked and rubbed my shoulder, looking over to my lawyer, watching him laugh a little while he straightened his tie.

"I'm sure you'll love it here, you crazy bastard." James managed and looked towards the front door. He'd been creeped out by the place since I brought him here months ago. I kept telling him about my vision and my plans for the writing nooks, and the wine cellar and all of it. He didn't see it. Any of it. I turned away from my window and gestured him towards the door.

"I will. Tonight's the first night here. The reno crews come in tomorrow first thing in the morning." I smiled and opened the front door, taking in the fresh air of spring that washed through. James nodded and looked at his watch.

"Indeed. Want to grab a drink tomorrow? The wife wants me home early tonight, but she's out with her sister tomorrow."

"Yeah sounds good." I shook his hand and the lawyer left for the night. I went back inside, ordered a pizza and went to bed for the night.

The next morning came with no indication that things were about to take a gruesome turn. The crew arrived and I laid out the plans on the table, the guys placing their equipment down on the covered hardwood floors. The inspectors were going through making sure all the closets and what not were empty so they could begin. I'd be handing over my keys and not seeing the place again for a month while they worked.

"What the fuck?!" I heard resound from the basement. The crew chief frowned and led me downstairs to see what the commotion was about.

"Is this some sort of joke?!" The older Hispanic man looked at me like I'd killed his only dog. He stood back, still keeping his gaze on me and the chief and I stepped forward. I gasped. Inside of a concealed closet sat the skeleton of someone, but definitely a person. I reached for the cell phone in my pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

So here I sit. Writing this all down, partially for my own memory and the other part for James, when he shows up to guide me through my legal council against the sellers. I was sure this wouldn't be the end of this story.