November 20th, 2000...

It was almost about to turn winter, and the weather was turning a bit colder. Rick sighed heavily, launching on his couch after a therapy session with his therapist, Risha.

While he hasn't been himself lately dealing with his mental and physical health, he still is who he is, so his neighbors in this gloomy looking neighborhood never fucked with him about his situation.

Now, he was sitting on the front porch of his home, reading his newspapers and drinking his tea as he looked up, to see a car park on the otherside of the road, infront of a home that had been on sale for a while.

He took his glasses, leaning in to see what would happen next. He couldn't help but admire your determination as you lugged the boxes up the steps and through the front door of the old, run-down house. It was a miracle the place was even still standing.

"Looks like you could use a hand there," Rick called out, his voice echoing through the empty foyer as he picked up one of the boxes with only one hand.