“About thirty minutes had gone by and Mark was on his way back from the store, before he could reach the very road that led to his home, he saw smoke rising in a thick black way. He ran, ran as fast as he could go. When he got their, authorities stopped him from going in. And he stood screaming, it took some time for the fire to be quenched and when all was done, The Sheriff spoke to some of the others.
Sheriff: looks like the blaze was caused by this.
He held the charred remains of a grey handkerchief . Mark forced his way through the crowd and up to the men, when he saw his handkerchief, he couldn’t hide the fact that it was his, because the Sheriff looked at him and then the burned stitching on the cloth, reading his name aloud. There was a hushing gasp among the people watching as collectively believed that Mark was the one who set the fire and he believed it as well, though by accident. The crowd yelled partially for the kid to be thrown in the jail, others said to kick him out of town. And so it was traumatized and alone, the last thing he saw was the bodies of his mom and dad being pulled out of the rumble, having being crushed by a fallen support beam. He ran into town where others hadn’t gotten the news yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be long. Miss Lydia stood sweeping the front of her shop as Mark ran by…
Miss Lydia: Wait. Where you off to?
She invited him in for some food and he obliged only to keep up pretense and perhaps get something in his stomach before running far away.
Miss Lydia: What’s wrong Mark?
Mark: I did something, something bad to my family.
Miss Lydia: That can’t be true, you love your family.
Mark: I did.
Some of the town’s people and the Sheriff were going around the other shops, asking for him and Mark saw this from the window.
Mark: can I have some eats to leave with?
He said hurriedly, Miss Lydia nodded yes and Mark grabbed what he could and ducked out of the shop before the Sheriff made it there. He made it far away and when he looked back into the distance, he saw Miss Lydia talking with the Sheriff.”
“Now this is where it gets pretty unusual,” Jacquelyn warned. The two kids gripped the ends of their covers, in frightened curiosity. “Now the legends say, that sometimes, a terrible heavy sadness can carry with it, a ton of physical badness. For Mark the traumatic event, that he was sure he caused, kept him from getting hurt, no matter what he did to himself, no matter how many fights he got in, he would heal. He would feel the pain --no doubt-- but it was like, along with his family, he died too. It seemed to take twice as long for him to age than others. All that guilt pain and suffering, really had a hold on him,” Jacquelyn shrugged. “Well what happened to him?” the little boy peered from under his covers. “Some say he was killed in a fire. Other’s say he came back to this town after he was older and lived among the people as the new funeral home director and no one knew it was the same little boy, for by that time, anyone that could remember was considerably old then. Some say it was his son that came back to town. And even a few say, that he didn’t die and still lives on the outskirts of this town, in a house built by his hands, infused with the burnt remains of the old funeral home. No one goes there, for fear that they may be set a blaze, and buried right on the very same property.” she finished and stood up. “And that’s all I know, now you two go, to , sleep.”
The next day, in the afternoon, the young kids were playing in the playground while their dad watched. “Lets go see the old house just outside of town” they whispered to each other and waited for when their father wasn’t looking. On and on they went, pass the old railroad tracks and into the wooded areas. “Come on!” they alternated yelling, when the other fell behind. It was early in the evening and the kid’s dad was searching high and low and all around for them. Finally he called the police and Jacquelyn over to discuss looking for them. Jacquelyn said “are you sure they weren’t anywhere near the park?” “I looked, don’t you think I would search for my own children!” “Collin, I was just making sure, calm down, I’m sure the police are going to help.” “Actually,” the police officer said “ we can’t file a missing person’s report until 24 hours.” “What!” Collin jumped
“24 hrs for children, 48hrs for adults,” he saw the look on the dad’s face and said “We can drive around town looking for them, I’m a dad myself.” The officer and Collin grabbed their bags and began to go. “I’ll stay here, just incase they come back.” Jacquelyn said. They left and an hour or so went by. Jacquelyn paced back and forth and as soon as the idea of the children going to the undertaker‘s house, popped into her mind, she grabbed her things. She drove passed the old street signs, things getting dustier the farther she went, passed the rail tracks and to the edge of the town. She knew she couldn’t drive through the wooded area and so she left the car and went hiking through. She heard some screaming of kids a little away from her and darted to that area. There stood a large, Victorian style home, that looked worn and beaten up. She finally found the two kids chasing each other on the porch, that wrapped from the front of the house to the back. “You two are in so much trouble! Your dad is worried sick and so was I!” Jacquelyn shouted as she caught her breath. “Aww Auntie, we just wanted to go on an adventure, like the kids in the story did,” the little boy said “Do me a favor kid, don’t go on adventures, until you are tall enough to reach the cabinets in the kitchen.” she knelt and hugged them, then stood and walked with them close by her sides ,”Now lets get you back, I think I’m parked towards this way.” she stopped to think of where she was, it was hard to tell, there was no clear path.” Suddenly they all heard a shuffling in the bushes behind them and the two kids shrieked, and Jacquelyn pushed them to run in front of her as she ran behind. “CRACK!” was heard and the two kids turned to see their aunt hanging in a space that had broken where the door meets the porch. They gasped and ran towards her. “Are you ok!” the boy screamed, “I’m fine I just-” she tried to pull herself up but she quickly found that she had broken her arm when she landed on it. Her arm slipped and she was now hanging by one hand, over what seemed to be a basement deep under the house. The sound of heavy foot steps came from behind and the kids went running off the opposite way. Jacquelyn tried to see what was happening, but the space cracked more and she slipped down into the basement, and onto the edge of a banister. Her eyes flutter as she tried to focus, but there was a burning pain in her head and things began to dim as she fell unconscious. The last thing she saw were some big black boots stepping to her and massive hands, She yelled for help.
For God so LOVED the World that he gave his only begotten son, that who so ever believeth on him shall NOT perish but have EVERLASTING life.