Dorie Morgan’s Rising Up

There was a dead body in my new house. 

Granted, the house isn’t really mine yet.  The house won’t be mine until August 15^th.  But it feels like mine.  Our realtor may tell us that the current home owner is emotionally invested in the house and we are emotionally invested in our money but that isn’t entirely true.  We wouldn’t be spending all of this money on a property if we couldn’t see ourselves emotionally invested. 

On Friday night, when Brian and I went to initial the changes to the contract, we found a certificate of death included in the bottom of the paperwork.  And immediately, I start telling Brian about how we were right, how it was either a divorce or a death that put this house on the market, how sad it was, etc.  I have to admit, I was feeling quite proud of my powers of observation.

And then I kept reading the certificate.

And then I noticed that the guy had committed suicide.  In the house.  With a gun to his head.  With a rifle.

And then I started freaking out.

First off, the guy had a family.  Four other people lived in the house with him.  And one day, they came home and he was dead.  Two of those people were his children.  How in the world are they ever going to recover from this? 

Second, I am amazed at the level of violence involved.  It wasn’t like someone would walk in the room and be scared that there was their loved one laying unresponsive on the floor.  They walked into blood and violence.  Just thinking about that leaves me shell shocked.

Third, as per the certificate of death, the time of the accident was unknown.  He could have been there for quite some time with no one noticing.  No neighbors heard a shot being fired and thought “maybe something happened, maybe I should call the police”. 

Finally, there was a dead guy in my dream home!

Now, I understand that this is a ninety year old home and there have probably been plenty of dead bodies in the house.  After all, dying in a hospital or hospice wasn’t always the standard operating procedure that it is now.  But the level of violence kind of freaks me out.

So now, Brian and I have been trying to figure out where the suicide took place.  Because we don’t want to renovate that room ourselves, we want to pay someone to renovate it for us.  It’s turned into a game of Clue but real and therefore a bit creepy.

Brian thinks it happened in my dream bedroom, I think it happened in the basement.  I’m still waiting for the police department to call me back with information from the police report. 

At least now we understand why the home was being sold at such a great price.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008 at 1:59 pm and is filed under home life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.