Getting ready to move inMature

The death of my father, is overcoming. I will have the whole house to explore. There was a section of the house, that I have never been able to go into. It was where he usually was, when ever the family had gone to find him. No one was allowed to go in there, and I mean no one!
It seemed odd that his wife died, a few days before his death. He had come from northern Europe to here, I never saw any of my relatives or heard from them either by letter or telephone or now the internet.

          

              Getting ready to move in

  I had just finished the paperwork to gain my father's estate. Oddly enough, I was the only living person in the family. Father had never talked about our family who were from Europe, that as where we original from. I did not understand, why?  When I had asked him about them he seemed hard pressed to give me  any answer about them. He glared at me as though I had spoken of the devil himself instead.

    I think, he may have been orphaned if that was possible. He always wore a medallion that I had not ever rightly seen, I did see it on ocassion, but its shape was never the same as it was the last time I saw it. He never was without a shirt to conceal it from anyone who would look at him.

When I took possession of the house, since had had not been seen in about a year. Whenever I was to look at the huge brooding affair of a house, I felt regret in not knowing him better than I did. He never gave me, any advice other than to stay away from others, it may have been that he was someone who ran a concentration camp or something?  I did not know, what was wrong with him. 

The magistrate decided, he might be dead; however he always was a bit of a recluse. No, I might as well tell you straight he was. A recluse in capital letters.    When he threw me out of the house.  When I just turned 21 years of age, for daring to challenge his authority.

I had gone looking for the family in Europe and the rest of the world. Yet, I was unable to find anything out about my family,  there. It intrigued me, that there no mention of the family anywhere in recorded history. I did not know anything more than I did when I left him about the family or our history.

     The house looked to have what I thought it been.  Having suggested that he did own this house.  It was a brooding monster of a house, so my family had to have been wealthy to have been able to buy such a house as this.  I wanted to know more about my family, when I was an adult; I turned over every stone that has been there. To find out more, it was like looking for a ship in the Bermuda triangle      

     I remember once, when I was little. Mind you, I have always been little. A youth rather. I had sneaked into this area of the house that was off limits to everyone in the house.  I do not remember him ever allowing anyone in there.

 

         I had gotten in there, I was excited. Father had

    forgotten to lock the door to this section of the

    house.  I clapped my hands together to extend the

    exstacy that I was feeling about being here.

The End

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