Hiraeth - 2
Chapter 2 - Our Our Friend, Death
Word Count: 5320
Warnings: Minor gore, swearing
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Etna, California, the interstate sign reads. Three hours we've been stuffed in this car. Three hours I've been itching to at least walk around... and I'm in desperate need to relieve my bladder. Chester's fingers drum against the leather of the steering wheel, he must be ready to stop for the day too. There's a certain... drowsiness you get after being in the car for so long, your body just begs to lie down after being stuck and crammed in this small car for so long.
"Do you think Etna'll be a nice city or a trashy one?" Chester asks me suddenly, my brain is half asleep and barely registers the question. All I can do is shrug and make the 'I dunno' sound.
"I just hope they have a motel we can stay at."
"Every place has a motel, Brad," He side eyes me from his seat, "We've stayed in abandoned ones before, too, remember?"
"I know," I look down at my feet, "Just forget I said anything."
His eyes glance over me, I can feel their stare. My cheeks burn from exhaustion and how humiliating it is to run away from ourselves like this. Our car stays to the right, merging off the interstate and on to a local highway. Nothing but farmland for miles to see, we're still a ways away from Etna, another good twenty-minute drive, maybe. Corn stalks dart along the highway, they're close to being ready for harvest. Either that or they're already prepping for a Halloween corn maze this year. Maybe it's the latter.
"I wish we had some red beans right now," Chester breaks the silence of the drive, "It is Monday, after all."
It's a tradition for him to eat red beans with a hunk of cornbread thrown in the middle every Monday. He said it was what everyone did down in Louisiana, you'd let the beans soak up some spices while you did laundry. Monday was laundry day too, he told me before. The beans would be nice and soft by the time the chores of the day would be done. I don't understand it, I'm not a Cajun man, but I know better than to break him of his culture.
"I doubt they'll have any," I respond, "Maybe... Maybe we should... go down South after we finish off Washington."
"Maybe," He flattens his lips together, "It's... it's different down there."
I don't ask what he means, he doesn't speak too much of his home. He always says something cryptic about it, said the swamp would swallow you whole if you get lost or how the people who live nearest the river were cursed, practicing voodoo to hex the nearby children. Weird, if our lives weren't so crazy ourselves, I would tell him he was being a fool for believing such fairytales.
Slowly, as we drive, more and more buildings begin to pop up. First, there are just a couple of farmhouses, then a service station, then comes to more residential areas. Next thing you know, we're here in Etna. There's not much to say for it, not the city. But the views are amazing, a mountain looms in the distance, visible from every section of the city. I can't take my eye off the white peak of the mountain and how the clouds mimic the shape of the snow that coats parts of the mountain. The rocks are dark, angry looking against the snow. Below the mountain peak is a dense forest, the trees stand tall and dark against the pristine colored snow. I'm lost in the feeling of homeyness that the surroundings give me, I don't even realize the vehicle had come to a stop until Chester opened up his car door.
"You're a weird one, Brad," He half-snorts while looking back at me. He bends down to look at me, still sitting dumbfounded in my car seat.
He doesn't understand the sense of nostalgia I get from being so close to nature. He was born in the deep south. No, not the type of South you're thinking, not the hill-billy tractor lovers, but the God-fearing people of the bayou; the real southerners. He grew up in the outskirts of New Orleans, his small city was entrenched by the swamp. The only trees he knew were the magnolias or the moss-covered cypresses whose roots were engulfed by the muddy waters of the bayou. His vision of nature will always be that of the swampy, musky bayou of his home, not the leaf daubed hearth of the northern forests.
"As weird as they come," I reply back tonelessly. I follow my boyfriend's footsteps and exit the vehicle, slamming the car door shut. Chester winces as I use a bit too much force in doing so, he reminds me suddenly of how much he loves this car.
A local walks by the hood of our car dressed dapperly in a suit and tie. The jacket of his suit reflects a cool, pastel blue, it mimics the color of the afternoon sky. He wears a fedora the color of a cloud, he lifts his hand to tip the front of his cap.
"Yer new around here?" He asks. I realize now that Etna must be a small city. I glance over at the streets, most people wave to one another as they walk down the sidewalk. Close knitted communities are the worst for me. You're an easy target in them. Everyone knows each other and we're the outsiders, if something bad happens, all fingers will be pointed at us.
"We just came in from Redding," Chester smiles warmly at the man, "We were hoping there was a place to stay—"
"Oh, no worries! No worries!" The man has a booming voice, a peal of half-hearted laughter follows his words, "There's 'n old inn down the road, two little ladies run it. Nef and Frankie. They'd be happy t' help sum folks like y'all."
I'm a little confused on why we're in Northern California and this guy speaks like he's from Texas. Maybe he's new in town too, maybe we're not that much of an outsider here.
"Oh," Chester's smile grows flaccid, he nods with the man's words. His outward personality is... disturbing for me. Extroverted people are too... too nosey, love to talk when all I want to do is leave, "Well, I guess we'll be headed that wa—"
"Before y'all leave," The holds his hands up to stop us from going back to the car, "I'd like t' welcome you officially to Etna. Hope ye two stay fer long."
Maybe he's the mayor, that's why he's greeting us as we entered the city.
"Thanks," I speak up, half-assedly. He catches wind of my reclusiveness and quirks a brow. Chester shoots me a glare for sounding so rude towards him, but nonetheless, we buckle back up in our car.
Chester breathes a sigh as we back out of a parking space and head towards the aforementioned hotel— motel, whatever the fuck that guy was saying. I'm already getting a weird vibe from this place, I have half the mind to tell Chester to drive off and we can find a bigger city to hide out in. We're too easy to... spot... Newcomers in this old town that has seen many generations come and go.
We pull into the parking lot of the building named 'Two Sister's Lodge', the sign is worn and faded of color, but the rest of the building seems to be pretty good, aesthetic wise. I'd consider it on the nicer side of hotels we have stayed at so far. Chester wraps his hand around mine, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand. I look up at him, he's smiling innocently like he always does. I return the gesture and my cheeks dimple at him. We walk hand and hand to the entrance of the hotel and to the front desk. Sure enough, as the sign indicates, two sisters sit at the front desk greeted us with bright friendly smiles.
"Welcome to the Two Sisters Lodge," The lady nearest the desk speaks first. Her hair is dark, her skin is sunkissed and browned, but she wears the color well, "Would you like a room?"
Her name tag reads 'Nef,' her smile is soft and small, yet genuine at heart. She has an... herby smell to her. Pitching together her half-squinted eyes and the bubbly appearance of her attitude, I piece together that she's probably a pot smoker. Even if she were, I wouldn't care, she could be worse. One of our motel managers in a previous city ran a crack den in the back.
"How much do you charge?" Chester asks, not like it matters. Our credit cards get ditched every month, we leave and make new identities before anyone can catch up to us.
"Twenty bucks a night," The other lady says, she seems more... unwelcoming than the other lady. Her skin is pale, pale as the snow that sits atop the mountain, dark circles cover her eyes, "Maid comes in every day to clean the sheets, pick up dirty towels. We've got laundry in house, too."
She wears her hair in a loose, sloppy braid, it rests on her back and follows down her spine. She reminds me of how Chester used to be when I first met him. Unwelcoming on the outside but an actual cutie on the inside. Maybe she just needs someone to help crack her. I assume she must be Frankie, she doesn't wear a name tag, but her outfit fits the color scheme of the hotel and Nef's, so it's obvious she works here too.
"Oh," Chester mumbles, his gaze finds mine. We speak nonverbally, I nod ever slightly, "We'll take a room, then."
"Great," The first sister speaks, "We've got two Queen's beds or two twins--"
"We're sharing a bed," I speak up, her eyes widen at my response and she's left speechless for the moment. I curse myself for saying that, maybe this city is fucking homophobic like some we've stayed in. My worries are put to rest as she offers a kind smile, she writes down something on the nearby ledger before speaking to us again.
"No biggie," She ways it off, "We've got a Queen room, you can see the mountain from the window. Beautiful view."
"Yeah, that'll work," Chester purses his lips as he thumbs around in his pocket for that worn down leather wallet. He flips it open once it is in his hand and pulls out the red credit card. The card holder's name is some guy we made up, 'Chesney Bealleux', it matches our fake IDs for the month. He slides the plastic card across the desk towards Nef, she hands the card to Frankie over her shoulder. Frankie rings up a number on the cash register, dust settles across the keys and fly into the air as she presses the buttons. She hands Nef the credit card and then she slides it back to us, along with a key card.
"Your room is on the second floor, sweeties," Nef smiles, "Stairs are just down that hall. And You just call if you need anything, alright?"
"Wait—" Frankie calls out before Chester and I can walk over to the stairs, "I just wanted to let you know, there's a corn fest going on tonight. It's free and they got free food. You two look like you could benefit from it."
"Do we look that bad?" I tease her, a rose blush quickly fills out her cheeks at my remark. I feel bad, she looks unsettled by my joke, "I'm kidding, what time does it start?"
"It's no big deal," Her words are spoken lowly now, "It starts at six, ends a little before sunset. Somebody said they're having an afterparty when the sun sets though, lots of beer. Plus, uh, y'all been in a car for lord knows how long, it might help you unwind."
"We'll see," Chester intrudes, "We've had a long day, might wanna just sit and relax for tonight."
"Oh, well," She shrugs harshly, "Nef and I will be there, we'd hope to see you goons there."
"You don't even know our names," I speak barely audibly, but she picks up on the words.
"Well," She rolls her eyes, "Let's introduce ourselves— I'm Frankie, that's Nef."
"I'm Brad," I motion towards myself before pointing a finger to my lover, "That's Chaz."
"Nice to meet you." Chester waves with his child-like innocence.
They're... more hospitable than most people we've met in our travels. A welcomed change, for sure. Part of me screams to be elusive like always, but I lock that part away and give in to my human need to socialize.
"So," Nef joins the conversation once again, "Where you two from?"
"Los Angeles." Chaz answers.
That was the truth, it was in Los Angeles that this began. It was Los Angeles where we forged our love. It was Los Angeles that I was attacked by that creature and lay victim to its curse. It was a good home while it lasted, the city suckled and nursed my childhood. It adopted Chester many years ago too. At times I wonder if it will ever welcome us back.
"What're city folk like you two doing in a small town like this?" Frankie knits her brow at Chester's response.
"Got tired of the city life," I answer for Chester, "We don't like to be confined."
She mouths an 'oh' before giving a gentle nod of her head. Her lips tug upwards as another gentle smile warps her lips.
"Seems reasonable," She half-chuckles, "City life just isn't for everybody. That's why I like Etna, it's very calm and quiet. Nothin' bad ever happens here."
"Ever?" I quirk a brow. More guilt creeps in, I remember now that the full moon rises tonight, something wicked might happen tonight.
"Think the only fucked up thing that's happened here was a kidnappin' back in '82, but it all turned out fine."
"Oh," I murmur, "That's... not good—"
"Mmm," She shrugs, "It happens, I guess. But we're a quiet town. I hope y'all stay long."
I frown quietly, I know we will probably have to leave again tomorrow. That's just our fate now, every month is the same. Sometimes we have to leave more, barely staying a week in a city before people catch the drift of us.
"Yep," Chester pops the p, "Well it's starting to get a little late— I think Brad 'n' I are gonna head up to our rooms now if that's alright—"
"Of course, sure," She nods, "Y'all just call us if you need something."
We wave goodbye before we turn towards the hallways. Chester intertwines our fingers as we walk together, he squeezes my palm lightly like he's afraid to lose me. I look over at him with a loving gaze, he makes me forget the worries of the day.
The stairwell is eerie, dimly lit and the stairs creak as you walk up to them. Creepy, reminds me of some stupid 80's horror movie Chester would make me watch every month. He would always bicker at me to just sit and enjoy the movie, but they're always the same.
Chester looks over at me, a shit-eating grin pinned on his lips. He squeezes my hand again, forcing me to look up at him.
"You still owe me a fancy dinner, Brad." He chokes up.
"Whatever," I roll my eyes playfully, "Don't think they'll have any special restaurants here unless you consider Waffle House fancy."
"Waffle House is good, Brad, you wouldn't understand," He adds with a shake of his head, "That was fine dining when I was a kid—"
"That's 'cause all you guys had was a Waffle House—"
"Mmmm, yeah but— It was still very good."
I playfully shove him with my elbow as we reach the top of the stairwell. He opens the door that leads towards the rooms, he extends his arms to tell me to walk in first. The hallway is just as dim as the stairwell, reminds me again of those shitty horror movies. I grab on to Chester's hand again before we continue down the hall. After a moment or two of stumbling around, we finally come to our hotel room. Chester puts the key in the lock, the lock is a bit rusted and it takes a couple of jams to get it open.
Our room is... cleaner than expected. No dust, no bugs. Hell, not even a fucking cobweb. Chester sets our holdall down in the corner, his footsteps sound the empty room. Paper thin walls, fucking great. You can ever every little bump we make, every step and the slightest cough. Chester turns suddenly, facing me.
"Is this okay?" Concern fills his words, his skin pale of color. His eyes are gloss, red lines fill the white area of his eyes, showing the numberless sleepless nights. Tonight is going to be another sleepless night for him.
"This'll do," I force a smile but Chester knows me better, he can see right through me. His features drop and a feeling of guilt washes over, "Chester, it'll do. Don't worry."
"I always worry—"
"I know you do," I huff, blinking my eyes hard in response. I run into his arms, letting his worry wash away as I wrap him in my loving arms, "It's okay."
"What're we gonna do tonight?" He whispers into my ear, I feel his lip tremble against my earlobe. The full moon rises tonight, only a few hours of being human remains for me today.
"We do what we always do," I speak, "Lock yourself in the bathroom and... let me... let me change."
He sighs, though the energy he conveys is one of relief, not fear. We've done this long enough, he worries not about the other people, but instead, he worries about me. He worries I'll end up dead in a ditch, some hunter might come out and spray me with buckshot. He's even made theories of vampires eating me alive. Do vampires even exist?
"Okay," He breathes heavily again, "Okay... Just... Try and be safe tonight, yeah?"
I nod, though we both know I have no control over that outcome. He pulls away from my hold, I watch as he shrinks in his clothes.
"Let's just... Maybe we should— nap or something."
I pose the thought, Chester immediately shoots it down with a forcibly shake of his head. Too much anxiety and adrenaline drums in his blood, it would be hard for him to relax until tomorrow morning when he can wake me up from unconsciousness.
"I don't think I'll sleep," His head falls limp against his shoulders, "You should, though."
"I won't sleep unless you do, babe," I watch as his lips pull into a sneaky smile, he loves when I call him 'babe', "We could just—"
"We could cuddle."
"Oh?" He suddenly takes my hand and forcibly drags me to the bed, "I mean— I don't have anywhere to be... so—"
He doesn't really wait for me to give my verbal consent, he knows I always love to have sweet moments with him. I feel giddy, my heart throbs in my chest.
He gently pushes me down against the comforter. His body shifts on top of mine before he rolls over to the opposite side of the bed. He scoots close to me, our noses touch together, we Eskimo kiss. I bring my hand up and touch his thin cheek, I lean forward and let my lips grace against his. He pushes his lips out so they touch mine, our noses bump into each other. I curse our big noses.
"I love you, Chaz," I murmur into his lips, "More than anything."
"I love you too, Brad," Another kiss follows those words, "I wish we didn't have to live like this. Wish we could just be happy."
I smile though he pegs out the hints of guilt that hide behind my lips. He frowns suddenly, blaming himself for saying such a thing.
"I'm always happy when I'm with you," I touch our lips together once more, I linger near his mouth for a hint of a second, "As long as we're together, Chaz, then we're happy."
He beams towards me, his coffee-stained teeth shine in the dark hotel room. He gets even closer to me, our chests touch together, we can feel each other's heartbeats. They drum as one, finalizing just how much we love one another. I wrap my arms around his skinny figure, he feels brittle in my touch. His own arms stretch and his hands come to caress my cheek. His touch is holy, something that deserves worship. I am the saint in his temple, I cherish his every movement, every touch, every whisper that falls off his lips. All are like a heavenly dream. Perhaps he's the only thing that keeps me only a turn away from becoming a true monster.
He mouths the words 'I love you', a droopiness in his eyes tells me he's ready for a nap. Maybe our little affectionate moment gave him a moment of peace so he could slip into sleep. I reach forward and kiss his forehead and by the time I retract, his eyes are closed and his breathing slow.
"Love you, Chester."
A smile creeps on his lips as the words leave my tongue. A calm before the storm. He shows me his vulnerability, he trusts me with his life, he trusts me enough to see him at his weakest. It had been like this since the day we fell in love since he professed to me the feeling he had. I will never forget that day. I will never forget how our lips danced together that night.
The night approaches, an ache settles deep in my bones. The moon rises soon. I sit on the foot of the bed, my eyes watch over the sleeping figure of my lover. He sleeps in a fetal position, a shiver quivers through him from how cold it is. I hate having to wake him from his peaceful slumber, but I have no choice. He has to be somewhere safe. I lay back down on my spine, my body turns to face my lover. I bring my hand up and softly shake him, hoping he'd be easily awoken.
"Chester," I simper, "Chester, honey—"
He whines before rolling over in the bed, he takes a fist full of the comforter and pulls it over his head. He's like a child sometimes. I try and take the covers off him, but his grip on them is strong. With a sigh, I decide to take more drastic measures. I shake him with a little more force, chanting his name a number of times so he finally wakes.
"WHAT?" He cries out before immediately coming to his sense, "Oh—"
"It's almost time," I whisper. I watch as he rubs his weary eyes, a yawn leaps from his throat, "You've got to—"
"I know, I know," He smacks his lips together while stretching his arms out. He lets the appendage fall limp on top of the comforter, "Be safe."
I force a smile, my eyes turn glossy as the usual guilt from our situation hits me at full force. This is our life now. He chose to stay with me, a fucking freak. I suck on my teeth while I watch my boyfriend finally rise from the bed. He shambles over to my side of the bed, I rise from my spot and instinctively wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. I feel the pain that besets him, as I'm sure he can feel mine too. I let silent tears fall and coat his sleeping shirt. He pulls away from me, his hand caresses my cheek for only a second before he finally leaves to lock himself somewhere safe.
There was no use in trying to lock me up, I always escape. The last time we tried to secure me, it almost cost Chester his life. I broke down a door and trashed the whole room trying to claw at him. I couldn't fucking live with myself if I ever even laid a finger on him with the intention to harm him. So instead, Chester chooses to hide away so the beast won't sense him. It puts others at risk, but what else can we do?
And now, I sit alone in this dank hotel room, waiting for my body to take its unholy, primal form. Moonlight peaks through the paper-thin window shades, the pale light illuminates the room. My vision begins to fade as my mind starts to jumble and the unthinkable pain warps me.
~ ✦ ~
The forest knows death. From the dead leaves that paint the forest ground a musky, rotten brown, all the way to the carrion of freshly killed venison, not even stopping at the bare-boned carcass of a now unidentifiable animal. It never ends, the cycle of death, it continues and continues until we all are left as dust in the wind. Death perfumes the woods, the most primal scent in all of nature. The one thing that is certain in life, it is death.
Two bodies lay against the rotting leaves of the barren earth. Slash marks cover their bloodied bodies, throats torn and innards thrown askew. They weren't unfortunate victims to a starving wolf or bear. No, their meat remains untouched, uneaten. Killed for fun, killed for the thrill. A characteristic common within human nature, the need to feel superior and to give in to your dark urges. However, these markings are inhuman. No mortal man possesses the claws to tear this flesh, nor the strength to break these bones. No, these women were the victims of a supernatural creature, one that hunts when the full pale moon rises.
A tragedy, some would say, but this is just a normal part of life that the forest knows. The forest accepts death, it feeds generations of life. These women, though they lay dying and decaying, are ensuring the survival of many other creatures that call these woods their home. A crow drops down from a barren tree branch and perches down beside the carrion of the corpse. It takes a piece of flesh and eats, absorbing the energy that lays ready to be taken advantage of. The crow flies off suddenly, taking with it another pinch of carrion.
The moonlight has faded, the sky warms as the sun begins to tease along the skyline. Farmers are the first awake, they must tend their crops and slit the ground before another patch of rain comes through. The noise of farm machinery stirs some of the townsfolk who live on the outskirts of town, they are unhappily awoken. The day starts, as usual, children ready for school, parents prepare themselves for work. They are oblivious to the sin committed in the woods. That is until a duo of school children find one of the lady's bloodied jacket thrown far from the body. A metal name tag glistens in the sunlight, a blemish of a bloodstain rims the outer edge.
My lover, Chester, stirs me from my sleep. He gentles shakes my body until I wake, his eyes are glossy and filled with sympathy. No, no, I couldn't have done anything last night, but his eyes tell the whole story. I open my lips to say something, but no words fall out. I just sit there, staring up at my lover with a speechless expression.
"We have to leave," He drips the words into my ears, "I'm sorry."
"It happened again?" A rhetorical question, I know it will only keep happening until the day I die. Chester responds with a soft nod. He tries so desperately to mask his sorrow, he even forces the fakest smile I've ever seen him wear. Maybe he feels guilty for having to wake me up with this news, or he hates having to move so soon again.
"You should shower," He doesn't verbally respond to my question, only tries to change the subject, "You smell like a hound."
I ignore his little comment, only responding by raking him a glare. I stand from my spot on the hardwood floor, my bare body is covered in scar tissue. I wear the scars well, Chester has told me, but I hate every single one of them. I dig at myself during my time as a beast, these marks were from its-- my-- claws. I run my tongue across my teeth, the faint tang of the metallic liquid stings my tongue. I want to believe it is my own blood, but I know better.
I head for the shower, the metal from the showerhead is rusted and the whole bathroom smells like ammonia. I turn the nozzle to get some hot water, but it only gets as hot as lukewarm tap water. I step in, the water turns a pinkish hue as the blood that cascades my body joins with the water from the shower. Chester usually joins me in the shower, but I never let him in when the water runs red like a river of rubies. The water quickly turns cold, thankfully it gave me just enough time to wash the blood off my pale scarred skin. Chester waits outside the bathroom door, he jumps into my arms as I walk out.
"I'm sorry," He sniffles, "I know you hate leaving--"
"Don't be sorry," I move my hands up so I can hold his head, "The fault is mine."
He bottles up a whimper, but he quiets down. He grabs our holdall and we exit the hotel room. We travel down those same eerie steps, into the lobby-- only to find it completely empty. Chester looks over at me with that same look from this morning. It hits, it had to have been them. My lips tremble but I bite down on them to keep him from noticing their emotion. Chester stops walking, his arms wrap around my bone-thin body. He starts up with the mantra of words like 'it wasn't your fault,' 'I'm sorry,' and other white lies that'll keep me from tearing down myself for killing another innocent person.
"Let's just go," I huff. He releases my body and we continue to hurry down to the car before anyone suspects any foul play from us, "I'm ready to leave California."
Chester doesn't say anything as we reach the parking lot and enter our Camaro. A darkness hangs over him, he gets like this every time I kill. I wonder why he puts up with this, I wonder if he's just ready to end it all. He could be free from this right now if he wanted to, he could have me killed or he could just leave me stranded here. Either way, he'd never have to deal with this bullshit ever again. Yet, he loves me too much to leave.
Here we are again, the familiar interstate 5. She knows us well, we traveled her up and down for months now, it seems like every day we get closer and closer to meeting her end. The roads are empty, except for a few late stragglers on the work trail. We speed far away from Etna, it has become another city to feel our curse.
"Where to next?" I ask Chester.
"Ashland," He replies in a toneless way, "It's not too far."
We've traveled up and down California and finally, we have desecrated its entirety. Our next state is Oregon. I want to believe that this could be our last stop, that we won't have to keep running, but both Chester and I know that'll never happen because we can't escape ourselves that easily.
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During the listing period of your house will have recurring expenses. These expenses you would not be facing with a fast sale to palmtreecashhomebuyers.com.
Monthly Costs
While your house sits available on the market, you will still have to pay the monthly bills. Even if you have moved out of your house, you still need to keep the water and electrical power on for people seeing the house. Another cost like homeowner’s insurance coverage and real estate tax up till the day of closing. Another note if the house is sitting vacant you will need to inform your insurance company and pay a surcharge if required for vacant homes. You will likewise need to continue taking care of the cleaning and routine maintenance of the house. Throughout this time of the listing, you could be out countless dollars you could have otherwise kept in your pocket.
Marketing
Some agents will include terrific marketing, while others will not. To efficiently list your home, you will want to make sure there are fantastic listings and great photography of the house. The cost of those professional photos starts at $200 per hour and up. Please don’t make the mistake of just taking anyone photos. That can be the kiss of death for a home listed on the market for sale. Your house with poor pictures will stand out undesirable next to the beautiful homes listed on your agent’s websites. Some individuals are even employing drone photographers to capture their homes from above. It is increasingly necessary also to get a video made of your newly spruced up home. At an additional cost of course.
After A Deal Has Been Made
When a deal has been made, and accepted, you will still be responsible for the insurance coverage, energies, and taxes up till the day of closing.
Depending on the loan provider this could include several weeks added to your timeframe. In turn, adding more cash, you are paying to own the home. Most offers are contingent on inspections and appraisal procedure. You can prevent many of these charges with a direct deal from a company who purchases as-is. Palmtreecashhomebuyers.com
Negotiated Fixes
When the inspection has been finished, you might have to work out repair work based on the seriousness of the differences found. If there is a significant problem with your house, the potential purchaser will want them all repaired before the closing. (The bank isn’t likely to fund a loan for a damaged property either.) The truth is buyers typically want everything on the inspection report fixed. They may see it as you are getting the full price for your house you neglected these items of they broke on your watch you pay to fix them all. Even the trivial ones. If your buyer chooses to rescind the offer, you will have to divulge the required repair work to all possible buyers going forward. New buyers will often be put off if you are selling with, these items not repaired and yet you are asking for the full market price for your home.
At The Closing Table
Commissions
As soon as you are signing the closing documents, it is also time to transfer a check to your real estate agency. This will generally run about 6% of the last sale price of the home.
Closing Expenses. Many extra charges are lumped together as closing costs. These include file filing, title search costs, credit check expenses, transfer taxes, real estate tax and more. Usually, this will run you another 2% of your final list price.
Once you build up all the expenses, you can see that listing may not be best for every single residential or commercial property. Many individuals find higher benefits by selecting a direct sale! Run the numbers on your own and make the decision that works best for you!
Interested in selling without the traditional listing costs? We can help! Send us a message or give us a call today! 954-278-9353
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PalmtreeCashHomeBuyers.com
1451 W. Cypress Creek Suite 300, Fort Lauderdale Florida 33309
Fort Lauderdale, Florida
954-278-9353
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