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Marcie

Hello, Darnacle road

Hello, Darnacle road

Jul 15, 2019

"And that was the last box. Have a good rest of the day mrs. Anderson!"

The bearded man hopped back into his baby blue delivery van and started up the engine. He opens the front window and blurts out with his heavy cockney accent:

"We'll send you the receipt, love."

He gave me a kind of funny smile and put on the car radio, a calm jazzy tune could be heard from afar when he had already driven down the street. He must be new to his job. A little too enthusiastic for moving around boxes all day and night. But then again, he might have struggled to find a job for a while and got this one out of pure luck. Or maybe he's just an optimist?

My new home doesn't look all too bad. It's an old rowhouse possibly built in the... 40's? 50's? Not sure, it doesn't look like the tall traditional rowhouse you can find across the UK. This one is just a simple one floor apartment, built by brown bricks, and tall pink rose bushes were planted in every front porch, under the bedroom window. And it's in the far corner too. Six apartments to the left, and one to the right.

"Guess I have to find some strength to lift these babies." Luckily I only brought a few things with me. A box with kitchen stuff, a box with clothing stuff, a box with weird fancy decoration stuff. And a few other boxes.

..filled with stuff.

I don't need anything more. I just want a new start. I don't enjoy people's company much. So a new city sounds like a honey sweet dream to me.

.....................

I walk up the small 3 stairs and unlock my old dark brown door. A horrible creaking sound came out of the opening and a chill went down my spine. 

To hear that creak in the dark while trying to find peace in dreamland is in a way a nightmare. You can never know what lurks in the dark really, you probably just have to trust your own instincts. And even if it is just a person, it could be anyone really.

The apartment from here looks pretty ok actually. Just has an old funky smell to it. I start by lifting every box inside since it looks like the predicted storm was no joke. The previous owners left all of their old furniture behind. I march straightforward to the kitchen and living room which both look dusty but cozy.. Looks a little similiar to gran's house!

"Darnacle Road, apt. 2, eh? Oh I'll surely remember to tell gran about my new address!"

After a few hours of unboxing and cleaning, I finally finish most of my unboxing. Got a little lazy after cleaning all the dust. All the walls were covered in tacky old fashioned wallpaper. But I like it. It brings out some sort of charm to it. I walk out to my tiny garden. It's full of reeds and no one's taken much care of it recently. But hey, at least there's a green bench swing out here whenever I want a fag.

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elenapeltola01
riapekonii

Creator

Aloha, cutey!
Am honored that you read this short prologue to the story of Marceline Anderson.

It's a fun hobby and I hope I can turn this into something interesting in a dark way!
Stay tuned, I'll soon work on my own artwork, promise!

Btw, fag = slang for cigarette

#newstart #psychological #girl #horror #mystery #uk #scandinavian #novel

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Marcie
Marcie

158 views1 subscriber

Marceline Anderson, or rather Marcie, moves in to an old moldy rowhouse apartment in a little town, somewhere in UK. She hopes to find herself a fresh start, but not a very long time of peace and quiet, she has to stand face to face once again with her forgotten past she once hoped to escape. But a common phrase we hear all the time from strangers and loved ones, "it gets better."
-..."right?"
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Hello, Darnacle road

Hello, Darnacle road

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