Bungalow Dreams

The day has finally arrived. Tomorrow onwards, my house is going to be in shambles and rebuilt again with a quarter of my mum's life savings all in over a month. My mum is going to Aunt Sally's place, Harold will be putting up at his best friend's (Sean, his cocksucking buddy as I would always tease him) extra guest bedroom and yes, I have decided to stay over at Steve's nearly vacant bungalow. I actually told my mum that I intend to take out the thrash every morning into the porch and pretend that I am the new owner of the gigantic bungalow.

"Rich people don't take out the thrash every morning. That's why they have maids. Forget it, you can never be a rich person. You're too middle class in soul Harry," was my mum's reply.

Shit, I hate it when she's right.

So the entire morning I was busy packing my entire wardrobe into eight different duffel bags and luggages. But that was only three quarters of the entire wardrobe. So I had to unpack everything and re-pack the clothes that I would probably want to hear. Harold walked past by my room this morning and stopped in his tracks.

"What the hell is this? You're only going to stay over Steve's place for a month, you're not migrating for good," Harold said.

"Well unlike you I have to bring a lot more clothes than you probably would because I change my clothes everyday, cause you know... I bathe," I replied sarcastically.

He kicked the pile of clothes at the door and scurried off.

"Asshole!" I shouted from inside the room.

I was the last person to leave the house because I had to be home when the packers come to pack our cutleries and plates and stuff. The rest of the household items are going to be packed and donated to an orphanage that my mum used to volunteer at a couple of years ago. Yes, you read that right. Everything currently in my house is going to be given away as charity. The newly renovated house would be furnished with everything new; new beds, wardrobes, sofa, dining table, sound system, lamps etc. My mum takes the adage "charity starts at home" rather literally.

She is also not present when the packers are doing their job simply because she is a mild hoarder and I am not going to pull away a hysterical woman away from her collection of fridge magnets. I don't have the time for that. Or the strength.

Everything ended at around six in the afternoon just now and as I locked the door, I felt a sense of excitement and nervousness. Excited to see what my new house would turn out to be and nervous, because it is going to be one month with Steve, just the two of us (five, if you count the maids) in a big bungalow. I hope I don't get lost in there on the first night trying to navigate my way back to my room.

When I arrived at Steven's place this evening, he was amused that I unloaded eight bags out of the maxi cab.

"Hello Miss Kardashian," he laughed as he opened his gate (see? rich people open their own gates!) to welcome me in.

We took all of my bags into my room upstairs that he has graciously allowed me to bunk in for a month and the room...is nothing short of amazing. I just can't bring myself to describe it.

"Oh don't worry. There is Wifi in the house, I'll give you the password later. And if you feel like eating anything, anything, just tell Bibik okay? She is a fantastic cook. (I wanted to ask which Bibik but I have a month to figure that one out) Yeah so everything that is in the house, is on the house. Oh and I need you downstairs after you've unpacked everything. I've downloaded the latest season of Modern Family. let's watch it together alright? And oh, remember to close the windows at night when you sleep?"

"Why?" I asked suspiciously. I looked outside of the window. Trees. Nothing but trees. I swallowed my saliva. I'm a wuss. There, I said it.

"Oh you know, things might come in at night," Steve said.

"What things?!" I asked, voice slightly shaking.

"You know, bats?" he replied.

I didn't know whether he was joking or serious so I just nodded. That was forty five minutes ago. I have finished unpacking my clothes and am typing this right now on my laptop, feet resting on the faux lamb wool carpet below me. Star just messaged me:

"How's the first night at your husband's place? And don't tell me Harry, he has liked you for the longest time, everybody knows that. <3 Have fun and don't get raped! Oh do you know that Melanie told me once that the same room you're going to be staying in is haunted? Have fun!"

Fucking bitch.