THE MANIPULATOR (PART-2)

...PART - 2...

Mom sighs again through the phone. “I just wish you had

more ambition in life, instead of staying in the town you grew

up in, sweetie. Do something more with your life than waste

away in that house like your grandmother did. I don’t want

you to become worthless like her.”

A snarl overtakes my face, fury tearing throughout my

chest. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck off.”

I hang up the phone, angrily smashing my finger into the

screen until I hear the telltale chime that the call has ended.

How dare she speak of her own mother that way when she

was nothing but loved and cherished? Nana certainly didn’t

treat her the way she treats me, that’s for damn sure.

I rip a page from Mom’s book and let loose a melodramatic

sigh, turning to look out my side window. Said house stands

tall, the tip of the black roof spearing through the gloomy

clouds and looming over the vastly wooded area as if to say

you shall fear me. Peering over my shoulder, the dense thicket

of trees are no more inviting—their shadows crawling from

the overgrowth with outstretched claws.

I shiver, delighting in the ominous feeling radiating from

this small portion of the cliff. It looks exactly as it did from

my childhood, and it gives me no less of a thrill to peer into

the infinite blackness.

Parsons Manor is stationed on a cliffside overlooking the

Bay with a mile long driveway stretching through a heavily

wooded area. The congregation of trees separates this house

from the rest of the world, making you feel like you’re well

and truly alone.

Sometimes, it feels like you’re on an entirely different

planet, ostracized from civilization. The whole area has a

menacing, sorrowful aura.

And I fucking love it.

The house has begun to decay, but it can be fixed up to

look like new again with a bit of TLC. Hundreds of vines

crawl up all sides of the structure, climbing towards the

gargoyles stationed on the roof on either side of the manor.

The black siding is fading to a gray and starting to peel away,

and the black paint around the windows is chipping like cheap

nail polish. I’ll have to hire someone to give the large front

porch a facelift since it’s starting to sag on one side.

The lawn is long overdue for a haircut, the blades of grass

nearly as tall as me, and the three acres of clearing bursting

with weeds. I bet plenty of snakes have settled in nicely since

it’s last been mowed.

Nana used to offset the manor’s dark shade with blooms of

colorful flowers during the spring season. Hyacinths,

primroses, violas, and rhododendron.

And in autumn, sunflowers would be crawling up the sides

of the house, the bright yellows and oranges in the petals a

beautiful contrast against the black siding.

I can plant a garden around the front of the house again

when the season calls for it. This time, I’ll plant strawberries,

lettuce, and herbs as well.

I’m deep in my musings when my eyes snag on movement

from above. Curtains flutter in the lone window at the very top

of the house.

The attic.

Last time I checked, there’s no central air up there. Nothing

should be able to move those curtains, but yet I don’t doubt

what I saw.

Coupled with the looming storm in the background,

Parsons Manor looks like a scene out of a horror film. I suck

my bottom lip between my teeth, unable to stop the smile from

forming on my face.

I love that.

I can’t explain why, but I do.

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