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It Was Stolen

Book By: Emily Johnson

“Derek,” I sighed, “I don’t want to do this.”
“Babe. It’s fine. No one will know. No one can get in. Plus, we need a house.”
“Not yet!” I exclaimed. He was referring the need to the baby we had conceived. I was pregnant.
“Just think of it as stealing a house.”

Submitted:Sep 18, 2012    Reads: 114    Comments: 0    Likes: 5   

We went there only at first so we could have sex in private. Little did I realize that he would get so attached to this quiet old house in the woods. The house was rebuilt once. The old windows were inside the garage on top of the wooden support. They were dark, dusty and was something you could only imagine seeing in a horror movie, or windows from a mystery novel. That was nothing. Looking around the edges of the house, there was a burn pile. With a shining key right on the edge of the cremated remains of garbage, wood, and who-knows-what-else.
The night before, Derek, my boyfriend, and I were on our way back to his house when he fell halfway into a deep, dark manhole filled with feces. His leg had become extremely wounded, but he was alright. The flashlight, however, began to malfunction from hitting the ground so hard at that speed. We almost were about to have no light to get back, when we found a solar-lit yard-lamp. Upon arriving at Derek's house, he placed me on the side near his room while he snuck back into his room. A car pulled into his horse-shoe like cul-de-sac and stopped directly when it had view of me. It sat there for several minutes, watching me, full-on brights on the headlights. He turned and pulled forward slightly, and sat there for an even longer sum of time. Derek waited for them to leave before he left. We went back to the house in the woods for the evening.
There was no power in that house. It was a newer house; however it was taken away from the owner by the bank for extreme amounts of mold contamination.
"Derek," I sighed, "I don't want to do this."
"Babe. It's fine. No one will know. No one can get in. Plus, we need a house."
"Not yet!" I exclaimed. He was referring the need to the baby we had conceived. I was pregnant.
"Just think of it as stealing a house." Silence. "If you help me, I'll let you have the rest of this smoke."
I sat there, knowing he would just make a big deal out of it if I didn't say yes. So I figured, why not? And I would get a free 'halvsie' of a menthol cigarette. I said yes. What other choice did I have?
We found several boards in the garage and started barricading the windows and doors. Considering there was no power in the house, I questioned how he planned to have him and myself live there with a baby. There was, however, an adorable little room upstairs with a window on the inside that peered into the kitchen and it had little lips painted into a pattern. It was a perfect baby's room. That would be the infant's room until he/she could walk. I figured since there was a bedroom downstairs that had been a child's room before would be perfect when my baby got to be a little older. This was going to be an adventure I wanted no part of.


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