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The Restroom- Story 15 of 31

By Ta’kom Ironhoof

As you enter my home, you arrive in the foyer. In front of you, there would be a fairly pleasant set of stairs leading up to the second floor. To the left, lead toward the dining room, then on to the kitchen. If you were to turn right in the foyer, you’d arrive in the living room.

If you were to go up the stairs and turn left, you’d be met with a hallway that leads to the master bedroom, with its attached master bathroom. If, instead, you turned right at the top of the stairs, you’d be met with another hallway that leads down to the other two smaller bedrooms. I suppose they don’t have to be bedrooms necessarily. That’s just what they were originally designed for.

I can see the look on your face. All these descriptions of the layout of my home are boring you to tears. Don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. You’ve already experienced all this house offers. Well, not including the garage, attic, and cellar. You didn’t quite make it to those, now did you?

That…really doesn’t matter either. There’s only so much time and you can only do so many things in a single day. My home is rather big and it would take a lifetime to really explore all that it has to offer. So many sights to see and experience. A new discovery around every single corner.

Did you pay attention to the trees? The red oaks around Snake Hill are ancient, you know. Some of them, at least the ones that weren’t cut down, are a few hundred years old. And the ones that were cut down? Those were used to build this very house. As a point of pride, I’ve tried to keep everything as original as possible. I mean, it’s been painted numerous times, had a few windows replaced, and a porch was added on.

I suppose you can include the addition of electricity and plumbing as well as ‘improvements’. Certainly gives it some modern comforts while still having that colonial charm that so many look for. Heck of a view, too. On clear days, you can barely see the ocean from the second floor, but there are usually too many trees in the way.

I’m sorry, friend. I’m rambling again. I just love this house so, so much. Over time, there have been a ton of people who have lived here, but none of them stay for too long. Not like me. They might think they own it, but I’m the one who really owns it. You want to know why? Because I love this house.

They might have fancy paperwork with stamps and seals and signatures and whatever else they want to use to justify ownership, but none of them, not a single one, have really LOVED this house.

I’m the one who did the painting.

I’m the one who fixed her broken floors.

I’m the one who patched the holes in the ceiling.

I installed the wires and the pipes and the appliances.

ME! Do you hear me? I DID THAT! FOR HER! For this house!

And…you. What did you expect to find here? What were you thinking you’d get away with when you stepped through that front door? Did you really think that crowbar was going to save you? Did you think that just because it was two in the morning and it was pitch black outside that I wouldn’t know that you were crawling your way slowly to her front door?

I’m…getting overly excited now. There’s no need for that, my friend. Had I not stopped you as you broke open the door, there’s no telling what kind of damage you would have caused my sweet, sweet lady. But now, you can’t do anything, now can you, Mr. Racoon? I don’t need to know your name. Even if you could talk, I wouldn’t want to know. It’s irrelevant now that you’re here with me, inside the restroom at the top of the stairs.

Mr. Racoon, you couldn’t have possibly come at a better time now that I think about it. I’m not sure if I’ve gotten weaker or if you’re heavier than you look. Normally not this tired, especially after such an invigorating night. You ran and ran, but I caught you. And I do so love the chase.

Look at me! I’m rambling again. I get so talkative when new guests are in my home. Now that we’ve both had time to catch our breath and have a little chat, we really need to wrap this up. I can’t keep the house waiting. She means everything to me and you aimed to do her harm. I can’t let that go.

I probably didn’t need to put those chains around you. You’re not going anywhere. You can’t even talk. Took a while to perfect that paralytic, but I assure you, there’s no antidote. Why would I make one? I guess I just appreciate the aesthetic those rusty chains provide.

This is the restroom, after all. I want you to get as much rest as you can. What better room to do that in, hmm? Oh! And while I’m thinking about it, don’t concern yourself with that toilet that you’re sitting on. When the house smashes it to pull your body into her depths, the ceramic will only make it easier for her to digest you. You know that broken ceramic is extremely sharp, don’t you? Of course you do. Either that, or you do now.

Well, Mr. Racoon, I’ve had a wonderful evening talking to you. The chase around the house was fun as well. If we had more time, I might have dragged you around to see the rest of it, but I can hear my house beginning to grumble. She’s hungry, Mr. Racoon. I will close the door.

Time inside the restroom is a private matter. Rest in peace. Hopefully, it won’t be long before another friend comes to visit.