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New house

I never knew why we called her aunt. Maybe because her relation with my family was so complicated that it was much simpler to call her aunt. She was an old bitch if you ask me but I have to confess that I kinda liked her being like that (in some weird way). I remember we used to visit her every summer for a day or two. I also remember everyone was scared shitless of her. Her word (and it was shout or scream most of the time) was law! She used to carry a quay. I was pretty sure she could walk well enough and that she just dragged it along as her authority symbol. Last ten years or so we didn't go there. She became worst then ever. All I had left as a memory of her was a picture of her big house and beautiful gardens. I loved that place. I used to dig in the dirt, pitch the flowers, play with sprinklers; generally I used to make huge mess! I know, first time I did something like that, everyone was so scared, wondering what will Aunt say. She just looked at me and started laughing! "Finally a brave soul in our family!" she said From that day on we became ‘good friends' in some weird way. We used to do pranks on servants all the time. Soon they started to hate me as much as they hated her. Then her illness took her away from me. I grew out of my childish games and we kinda lost it all. She died just a few weeks ago and I thought these memories would be all that would remind me of her in the future. I thought that before I opened big yellow envelope. I couldn't believe my eyes but yes. I read it twice. Yup, there was my name next to my new title. I was the new owner of ...

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