When No One Believes

TheGrind

Literotica Guru
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Aug 6, 2010
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(Interested in the role of the daughter? PM me)

Nearly a year passed after the death of Markus’ wife before his request for transfer had finally gone through. The overriding power to get out of the city, to get away, overwhelmed him. It meant uprooting his life and his daughter’s life from what they had known in the city for nearly two decades, leaving everything for the country. Even after a year it was hard for him to deal with the death of his wife. Markus had everything set up for the transfer and move. Their furniture, their lives, everything was going into this new two story home in the middle of nowhere. It was a good place to be a cop. There weren’t as many major crimes and the settled down life would finally give him a chance to bond with his daughter. At least he hoped, hell knows the seven hour car ride didn’t do it.

When he turned into the drive he heard the gravel road pop and cackle under the wheels of his tires until he pulled to a stop near the front steps, killing the engine. Putting the car in park he stepped out, walking toward the trunk where a few boxes were stashed. The moving company had come earlier and brought everything in but their personal valuable items Markus brought himself. Unlocking the trunk he let it rise, placing a box under his arm as he walked around the car. A momentary glance was given to his daughter in the passenger seat as he took the stairs. He didn’t know if she was going to help or not; he wasn’t going to ask and he wasn’t going to wait.

Shuffling through his keys until he found the right one he inserted it into the lock of the door, opening it. Leaving the keys in the lock he stepped inside, looking at the wide open berth of the room. A fireplace was at the wall and his familiar furniture of couches and chairs were placed haphazardly around the room. Markus would have to organize those later. But what stood out to him was an organ sitting kitty-corner. He’d been here twice before, asking the realtor about it. The realtor told him it came with the house. Markus figured he could either sell it or at least leave it for decoration while he got the house in order.

Even with the furniture and the boxes stacked in room to room the house still looked big. But these days housing prices were prime and this was very affordable. Probably because it was in the middle of nowhere. Probably because it was a depressed town and the previous owners wanted to flee from poverty. It didn’t matter to Markus, their loss was his and his daughter’s gain. In his eyes, there was no downside.

Setting the box he was carrying on a couch he took one look around the place, letting it sink in that this was now his new home. This was their new home. The only hope he had, other than getting over the past, was that his daughter would be able to adapt. Here was this town and there was little to do. Markus was sure they’d both pay the price for living in the city for all those years.

As he sat on a nearby chair he looked over the room in front of him. It was a large living room, adjoined by a kitchen, a study, a bathroom and a few other rooms. Upstairs were a pair of bedrooms, a bathroom and a few others he didn’t know what to do with. Then he looked toward the door as a breeze came bursting through. There were a few more boxes to get out of the car so he pushed himself up, removing the keys from the door as he passed. Putting them into his pocket he retrieved two more boxes from the trunk before slamming it shut. He’d grab the rest later. With full arms he returned to the stairs, climbing up them and through the door. Setting them off to the side of the entrance he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The weather was getting warmer.

Walking through the livingroom and into the kitchen he opened the refrigerator door to find only a few things in there. They’d have to go shopping tomorrow. Tonight it’d be whatever delivered around here. Markus settled on a coke, taking it out of the refrigerator and closing its cool door. Opening it he took his first drink after nearly two hundred miles. At that moment he doubted anything could feel better.
 
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