Under The Back Porch

The house we rented was a bit of a shithole, but as students we didn't have a lot of options. It was on the outskirts of town, fairly isolated from everyone else, and frankly I think the landlord was a little desperate. But for three hundred a month I wasn't about to complain, and it was a good thing too, because we probably would've been stuck sleeping in the fucking bathtub otherwise. <br><br>We moved in at the end of the summer, just as it was starting to get chilly. It was a good thing, because the place didn't have any central heating. It didn't have a lot of things, for that matter. <br><br>"No utilities," the landlord warned us. "No electrical stove. I'll throw in a camping stove and some fuel, but it's up to you to get the lights and the heat."<br><br>We told him we'd take care of it, and he didn't seem too happy about it, but he handed us the keys and wished us luck. <br><br>We spent the rest of the day hauling our stuff in and trying to figure out the best way to arrange it all. I have to admit, as shitholes went, this was a big one. We had a tiny kitchen, a fairly large living room, and two huge bedrooms. It was practically palatial. <br><br>But even with all that space, we still had a ton of crap we couldn't fit anywhere. <br><br>"Fuck it," my roommate Ash said, hauling a couple boxes around back. "Leave it out here for now." <br><br>I helped him wrestle the boxes up and over the low stone wall that surrounded the backyard, and then we dropped them down under the back porch, where the stone wall formed an L shape. <br><br>"You think anyone will notice?" I asked, but he just shrugged. <br><br>We spent the rest of the afternoon hauling boxes, and the pile in the stone alcove steadily grew. It was probably stupid, but I was too tired to care at that point. <br><br>I was so tired, in fact, that I decided to go take a nap. <br><br>I flopped onto the bed, ignoring the dust and dirt and cobwebs that covered it, and was asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. <br><br>I slept like the dead. At least, until sometime after nightfall, when I was woken up by a noise. <br><br>At first I couldn't see much. I stumbled out of my bedroom, trying to find a place to start a fire, but the best I could do was a little candle burner with a tea light. <br><br>The flame was weak and flickering, and gave off very little light, but it was enough to see a shadowy figure standing at the window just off from the front door. <br><br>"Me?" I heard a deep voice mutter, and I squinted through the thick, grimy windowpane. <br><br>"Yeah," a slightly higher voice answered. "Thanks for coming over, man. We're in a bit of a bind here." <br><br>I recognised the voice. It was my other roommate, Jake. I had no idea who the first voice belonged to, though. <br><br>I moved a little cautiously towards the door. It wasn't locked, and I didn't want to startle the person. <br><br>Jake was standing just inside the door, and from the sound of it, he was talking to someone out on the steps. <br><br>"We just need some place to stash it until we can get to the pawn shop," Jake continued. "You know how it is." <br><br>"Yeah, sure," the other voice answered. "But we can't leave it out where someone's gonna find it. Where are you gonna put it?"<br><br>I heard rustling, like Jake was shifting his weight. <br><br>"I think we're gonna stash it under the back porch." <br><br>My stomach twisted, suddenly, as the other voice laughed. <br><br>"No, no, no," he said. "Absolutely not."<br><br>"What's wrong with that?" Jake asked, sounding a bit offended. <br><br>"I mean, you could *try*," the other voice said. "But that's not a good idea, man. Someone lives under there."