I'm not sure about the title yet, i'm planning to post this somewhere else and there's another story with a similar title. But it'll have to do until i think of something else. Anyway, here is the prologue. If you could focus on the grammar when reviewing that would be great, i'm not very good at it.
Living with the Devil
I was sceptical at first. I mean, when something seems too good to be true, it usually is. Leigh likes to throw around flashy words like cynical and pessimistic, but I’m just being realistic. A huge attic room, fully furnished with a queen-size bed, free internet and situated right next to the university I was going to, all for just £45 per week including bills. There was no way that could be legitimate.
After sifting through pages and pages of overpriced garbage, finding this ad felt kind of like what I imagine winning the Lotto would feel like. It took me less than ten seconds to come to the conclusion that it was obviously fake, probably posted by some pathetic loner with nothing better to do than crush the hopes and dreams of gullible students searching for decent, yet affordable accommodation.
Disheartened, I clicked the back button on my internet browser and returned to my fruitless searching. I suppose, if I’m being honest, I didn’t need to move. I was still living at home with my mum, dad and my dog, Rocky. And although I had to pay board, it was still a lot cheaper than moving out would be. However, the thought of spending another year listening to my mum whine about how messy my room is, or how I shouldn’t turn the lights on during the day because it’s wasting electricity, or how I should wash my pots straight after using them instead of leaving them in the sink because it makes the kitchen look untidy, was enough to make me want to rip my hair out.
So no matter how many times my mum told me it was a bad idea, or how many extra hours I had to put in at the store to afford the rent, nothing was going to stop me from moving out. The only thing that even made me think twice was leaving Rocky behind. It killed me knowing that I wouldn’t be able to take my baby with me when I went, as most student houses don’t allow pets, but it was the price I had to pay for my independence.
After another half hour of useless browsing, I decided to check out the advertisement again. A four bedroomed Victorian style house with a modern kitchen, spacious and stylishly furnished living room and a large garden with outdoor tables and chairs for BBQ. Reading the description, I could just imagine myself living there. No one telling me what to do, or how to do it. Complete independence.
Clicking the button marked ‘Reply to Ad’, I decided to go for it. What was the worst that could happen? It’s not like I was parting with any money or anything, at least not until I’d seen the place for myself. And if the ad was fake, it’s unlikely that anyone would reply anyway.
After sending the message I turned off my laptop with a sigh. As hard as I was trying not to get my hopes up, I could feel a tingle of excitement growing in my belly. This could finally be it, the moment I’ve been waiting 18 years for. I smiled to myself as I slipped under my duvet and fell asleep to thoughts of how amazing student life was going to be.
