A young girl runs through the woods that surround her home. The time is 12:00 am. Three hours passed curfew, but she thought nothing of it. She kept playing. If she had known what had come that night, then she might have gone home on time.

Back at home, her parents were already asleep, not realizing she had never come home. Everything seemed normal to them. The next morning her dad left for work early, without thinking to check on her. If he did, she might still be here. Her mom wakes up and starts breakfast; pancakes and eggs. Their favorite. The clock now reads 8:30 am. The kids should be awake soon.

Mom calls, “Jameson, wake your sister up for her birthday breakfast!” The young boy obeys politely, going to his sister’s room to see an empty bed. “Did she go to her friend’s house?” Jameson asks, confused. The house falls silent as mom processes. “Maybe she did. She and Stacy would want to be together for her birthday.” Mom shrugs it off. Mistake number two.

The mom gets dressed and heads to work leaving instructions for the boy “Stay indoors, don’t open the door for anyone. Me and your father have a key, and your sister shouldn’t be home, she’s having a party at Stacy’s place.” The boy nods and watches his mom leave the house.

The clock reads 12:00 pm. She’s been gone for 12 hours now. The little boy feels off. His sister would never come home without telling anyone, but then again, it was her big day. He decides he should make her a card.

He grabs the stuff to make one. He folds the paper and starts writing “Happy 16th birthday Nattily!” He smiles, finishes the card, sets it with the other gifts, and turns on cartoons.

Hours pass. It’s 5:30 pm when two knocks sound at the door. “Who is it?” Jamason yells scared to check. A voice yells back, “Mailman, I have a package for a Nattily?” Jamason thinks and goes to the door. Mistake number three. Mom said don’t open the door for anyone.

At 10pm, Mom gets home. Seeing the door wide open, she walks in carefully and notices cartoons coloring sheets, and a phone. “Maybe he called his friend’s mom to come get him,” she thinks to herself, cleaning up his mess. Mistake number four; call to see where he is. Why would the front door be wide open if he went to his friend’s house?

Do they not care about their kids? Why won’t they realize they’re gone? Why can’t they just figure it out? The mom heads to bed at 12:21am. Dad must be working late again, it’s a little later than normal.

At 3:20 am, he arrives home quietly, heading upstairs to go to sleep. Still, no one knows they are gone. Missing 27 hours. Time keeps passing slowly.

Aren’t parents supposed to love their children? Are they meant to care for and provide? The mom wakes up at 8:10am “Still not home?” she whispers to herself. She continues to act like everything is fine. It’s not fine… It’s not fine! She’s acting normal. Your kids are missing! Three knocks at the door. She goes to open it… there’s a small brown box. She takes the box inside and opens it on the counter. “My babies!” she yells, screaming bloody murder.

“No… no… no! This isn’t real. It’s fake please,” she cries out. The clock reads 9:52 am. It has been 34 hours since I’ve been missing, even less for my brother.

Let me introduce myself. My name’s Nattily, and this is MY story. Only if she had known and cared enough, then maybe me and my brother would still be alive, but for the thing that took us, I’m not sure… I don’t know why it went after our family.

I’m writing this to warn people about the house that got me, and my brother killed. 88 Wynn Road.

Even after our mom got the box, she told no one about that night and what had happened. Maybe that’s for the better. Who would believe her anyway?

One last question, why didn’t she report us missing? So many mistakes and none corrected, but it’s too late to correct anything.

I’ve decided today is the day I’m going to go see what took my and my brother’s life. The clock reads 12:35 P.m. I gather some stuff, including a journal, a watch, and a necklace.

By the time I leave the house, the watch reads 1:30am, leaving me 7hrs 30 minutes until morning. I make my way through the thick woods trying to find out what took me and my brother.

Everything looks the same. Why does everything look the same? I tear a page out of my journal, placing it on a tree as a landmark. My heart beats faster with every move echoing inside my head. What if what I’m looking for isn’t even here? Did something take me, or did I imagine it all…? Everything is blurry like I’m waking from a dream, but how could this all be a dream? It can’t all just be a dream, I remember it all so well. A faint rhythmic beeping can be heard. People talking blurred out. Why are they hovering over me? “Who’s that…” I mumble scared my eyes finally unblurring I’m in a room… a room with doctors. I panic “Calm down sweetie it’s okay everything’s okay.” a voice so familiar speaks but I can’t place it. Who is it? “You passed out at your party you’ve been out for days” the voice speaks again but all I can do is stare at the ceiling “It’s me, your mom. Please answer” Mom…? But how “Mom where am I?” I sit up lost and confused, looking at my brother and mom standing there. Just standing there. “You don’t remember, do you?” my brother whispers but Mom covers his mouth. “What do you mean? What aren’t y’all telling me?”

“Dad got in a car crash with you in the car. He… didn’t make it” All I can do is stare blankly. It all feels like a big nightmare that won’t end.

A couple months later, it all still feels weird. It’s not the same as it was before. My brother never leaves his room, my mom is never home, and I’m still confused about the accident and the “dream” I had when in a coma. I’m not sure what it all meant, but it’s too late to find out now.
Life moves on and so should I.