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Before bed, I saw this old Victorian-looking house for sale pop up on my Facebook timeline and the dream house was a mix of that house and my childhood house. The layout was a mix between the two and the house sat in a cul-de-sac and had a shed and everything.

When I first get to the house, I walk in and it looks like the pictures from the posting but there’s vines sweeping overhead and spread across the ceiling like a jungle. It's not a natural MESSY jungle, but a planned out one, like someone decorated it in rows of vines. Everything had it’s place. There’s fake colorful birds hiding and resting on the vines above me, a puffy yellow bird, and throughout the house are hidden speakers that play bird sounds. It was completely fabricated. I look up and above me is a victorian bird cage. I don’t see anything in it.

I go upstairs and there’s a bedroom with a low hanging ceiling. Next to it is another bedroom. And another bedroom. Each one has a different low ceiling and they don’t impress me like the jungle entry did. The last bedroom has a washing machine and sink/counter combo though and that was cool but nothing stood out so I go upstairs again and the sunny vine energy is completely gone. This staircase is more narrow and everything is antique. Dark colors, deeper browns. Mahogany and dust. Nobody had been there in a long time. There’s a box on the stair landing that opens into a zodiac music box. All the pieces are made of tin and are broken and laying inside of it but I don’t know what means what.

I keep going upstairs and its more narrow and dark. My deceased aunt and her grieving husband are there and its their house (or tour guides). They show me more antique things but I don’t remember what, maybe pictures. We go to this hallway, and there is a set of French glass doors that are curved at the top much like the bird cage from the first floor.

I look through the door and there are two lumps sitting, covered by a dingy, washed out quilt. One of the lumps has a foot sticking out. There’s a mass of flies covering them except for the foot. Somehow the door is open a little or opens and a sick, sweet smell comes out for just a second and I know what it is. I think my aunt shuts the door and looks at me, scowling through her eyebrows. Somehow I know the body is of Cecilia (no idea who that is). I tried talking to someone about the body but they didn’t think it was a threat. They told me that there was a reason and that it belonged there and shouldn't be moved.

Vague memories of spilling something and the house absorbing it through the corner of the table but there being no crack.

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