00. Agnes"Morty, don't go up there! Just forget it. We don't need her yelling at us."
"But, Bella, she's my aunt, she won't yell at me."
"She yells at everyone."There is always that one off looking house at the end of the block inhabited by that one person that everyone knows of. That one house is never actually ugly or shabby, but because of the person that lives inside and the story they hold, it just comes across as such. And everyone tends to simply avoid it.
In Sunset Valley, that house belongs to a young widow named Agnes Crumplebottom. Widowed before she could take her husband's name, she resides in a very stately manor at the end of the block. Pristine white with a black roof, you would think someone happy and rich lived there. Rich yes, happy no. And the evidence of that can be seen by the town on a regular basis when Agnes steps out onto the lawn in her bath robe to cry over the grave that resides on her front lawn.
She's not a particularly crabby woman. A bit grumpy, perhaps. But crabby? Mean? Vengeful and hateful? No, not at all. Loss did a number on Agnes, but it didn't turn her into anyone worth hating. There were far worse personalities in town. But because of her story, the story of her husband drowning on their honeymoon, people assume her to have taken on the personae of the angry old window in the big scary mansion. People pass by, they'll toss her a little 'Hi, Agnes' as she weeps. Sometimes, 'He wouldn't want you to mourn, Agnes'. Occasionally she'll bite back. Tell them it's not their business. Other times she'll continue to cry and look at the neighbor with a sad and lost expression before turning on a slippered heel and going back inside.
Agnes liked to keep to herself for the most part. Visitors were rare. Her sister, Cornelia, and her husband, Gunther, would stop by to say 'hello'. Mortimer, her nephew, would stop by every week and drop off the groceries Agnes would call in to the store and have him pick up for her. She upheld a quite, sad little life, sticking only to the bare minimum to keep her alive until the Reaper decided to come for her.
"Who is this..." Agnes said in a voice just barely over a whisper. The screen flashed 'Cornelia' and, after a moment's hesitation, Agnes put the phone to her ear, "...Hi, Nelly."
"Aggy! Watcher, I though you'd died."
Agnes let out a tired sigh and redirected her gaze to the window, saying nothing. Over the line, there was the sound of someone sucking their teeth and sighing.
"Poor choice of words..." Cornelia said quietly.
"It's alright, sis." Agnes responded, "I'm sorry I haven't answered my phone. I just...Honestly, I don't know what I was doing. I don't...do much around here."
"All the more reason to answer. You can't just--"
Agnes cut her off, mimcking her sister's voice as she finished the sentence she'd heard time and time again.
"
You can't just spend the rest of your existence toddling around that big empty mansion of yours, staring at the nursery and crying over Erik's grave. It's not good for you! And you need to answer your phone so we know you haven't pitched yourself into the ocean."
The line was silent for a few long moments. Agnes couldn't help but let a ghost of a smirk cross her lips. She could just picture the annoyed look her older sister had on her face in that moment.
"If you know the whole song and dance," Cornelia finally said, breaking the silence, "How about sticking to it?"
Agnes glanced over at the big empty red armchair behind her. It was the one she always sat in to read or stare out the wall-to-ceiling windows of her foyer. She never dare sit in the chair to left of it. That was Erik's seat. Only Erik was permitted to use that seat.
"It's hard to, Nelly...you know how hard this is for me."
"Agnes, it's been 3 years. There's a period of grief, but there's also a point where....How can I put this....there's a point where you grieve less and you not let it bring your entire life down. Where you channel that grief into drive and make leaps and bounds towards a new goal. Prove to anyone who's watching you that Agnes Crumplebottom controls her own life, not the memory of a lost loved one. I'm not saying hop into another relationship, don't become Claire Ursine who's pregnant with Jared Frio's baby, but get a job...get out and socialize. Don't you paint, Aggy? When was the last time anyone saw something you painted? I'm sure the gallery misses you."
"I'm sure no one misses me. Everyone thinks I'm the batty old woman in the big mansion...I'd rather leave it at that."
Cornelia let out a sigh, "First off, Aggy, you aren't old. You're barely a young adult. Second, I spent 3 hours yesterday with you. 3 hours with your hair, with your make up, with your clothes. Everything. And now, I'm telling you you're putting it to use."
Agnes's brow furrowed, "I thought you were just trying to make me feel better..."
"That was part of it. But only part. Gunther and I think you need to get out of your house and do something productive. So we took some initiative for you."
Agnes rubbed her forehead. Oh how she hated those words! All their life growing up, Cornelia had a very pesky habit of 'taking initiative' for Agnes. When they were kids, she just let it by and believed it was the thing older sisters did. But as they got into teen and adulthood, Agnes began to hate whatever measure Cornelia took to 'better' her little sister. The only thing she did right was introducing her to Erik.
"In what way..."
"We sold your house."
Agnes felt the floor fall out from underneath her. The house....the house?! Erik still lived in the house. He lived in the bedrooms, in the sitting areas, in the kitchen...! In the backyard, the front yard...in the nursery---!
Cornelia spoke again, but most of what she said became faint mumbles in Agnes's ear. Why as Cornelia doing this? Why was she trying to rob Agnes of her husband...?, "The deed to the house now belongs to the city. I'm not sure if you remember, you've lived there for so long. But that's mom and dad's old house and they gave me the deed when they died, but I moved in with Gunther and you took it. But I made the payments, so I had the right to sell it. You have 2 weeks to move out and I already have other arrangements for you."
Agnes felt her eyes grow hot. She whirled around, looking out the window at the tombstone on the ground. The tears fell. Cornelia was taking her home. She was taking Erik...she was taking Erik...!
"Nell...." She uttered, "Eri---"
"Agnes, STOP. You listen to me. You are getting away from that house. You can take Erik's tombstone with you, but you have to leave that house. I've enrolled you in Sims University. When you get there, find a man named Rex Lovelace--he lives in the Urele-Oresha-Cham Fraternity and he's going to help you get settled. You're going for a Fine Arts Degree, 2 terms and you'll have a diploma in your hands by the end of it."
"Sleep...." Agnes said weakly, placing her hand against the glass of the window, "Can I...Nelly, I want to sleep..."
"Fine." Cornelia's tone was unnecessarily authoritative and absolute. With no house and a little under 20,000 simoleons to her name, what choice did Agnes really have than to do what her sister said?, "I'll be over in a little while to pack for you. Go to bed, now. Don't let me catch you in the front yard."
Silently, hands shaking and her mind whirling, Agnes hung up the phone. She didn't jump when it fell from her hand and shattered on the floor. She didn't hear anything as she stumbled past the armchairs and knock over the vase of dead roses given to her by her former husband on their first date. Weakly she climbed the steps of her home and stumbled into the bedroom, tears streamed down her face as she crawled into the bed and pulled the blankets up over her. Her life was being taken apart by outside forces and put back together into something she didn't want....her mind was unable to handle it. for a while she just laid there, eyes open and tears making marks on the sides of her face and pooling on either side of her head on the pillow.
Erik...Erik help me...Come back, please. Make all this go away....
