Jack’s basement

The house reflected the dual personality that had eventually killed him. Ground level and above was interior design magazine perfect, all minimalist and neatly arranged. Push one item out of alignment with the table edge and no doubt his ghost would come and move it back.
The cellar was the other side of his head- less sick, far less restrained and nowhere near as strong. The junk was piled all the way to the top step, later additions had been tossed through the door without. Every time happy Jack had found something to enjoy anal Jack had managed to banish it.
"I hope there's nothing organic in there." Sarah said as she laid a hand on Julian's shoulder. "To think your brother starved to death because he bought all this stuff then couldn't afford food."