The Tutor/How it Began
You were nervous, not only because this would be the first tutoring gig you've had in months and your last chance to make enough money for your rent, but also because this would be the first girl you've tutored outside of family members.
You look at the huge house in front of you as you walk toward the front door. You grew up in poverty, living in a rundown mobile-home most of your life; you haven't had too many close encounters with money, but this seems to be one of them. Even the gate that you got buzzed through likely costs more money each month to maintain than the rent for your dinky studio apartment you're living in.
You give two small raps with your knuckles onto the large wooden door. There's no response. You notice the doorbell to the side and reach over to press it.
"Don't do that," you hear suddenly from a speaker nearby. "Just come inside and head to the study on the left." You look toward the voice and notice some smart doorbell system with a camera and speakers.
You wave nervously at the doorbell and twist the handle on the door. The wooden door opens wide, and you're greeted by a large entryway. You close the door behind you and look around.
In front of you is a set of winding stairs like those you've only seen in movies, you hear some high-pitched chatter coming from the left, and toward the right you notice what seems to be a dining room and kitchen.