The sun shone through the clouds; clouds that seldom appeared in the bright blue sky, looking down on the beautiful streets. The green grass neatly cut; a square of vibrancy situated outside every one of the beautiful houses that made Walker Street. Everything was as bright as the glaring sun above; bright yellows, fiery oranges and turquoise blues.
Neighbours greeted each other with open arms, chattering over each other’s picket fences. No evil or sadness dwelled in any of the dark corners of this street. The dark corners of this street were now always bathed in sunlight; always covered by beauty- flowers, plants or trees grew in the place of the ugly.
I looked out at the street in front of me, blissfully unaware of the evil that surrounded this area. I was happy, and ignorant to the real world; the dangerous horror that lurked in it, and the system of which it worked with.
‘Marty?’ came the sweet, childish voice of my mother. I turned to look at her smiling face. ‘Happy birthday my son!’ she exclaimed, handing me a small box. My face lit up as I took the present from my mum’s small hand. I opened it, revealing the small white box (NOTFINISHED)