Chapter 1

After the death of his parents when he was 10 mason had been placed into his uncle's home but only for a few years. As soon as he was 16 he had been kicked out of the house, everyone blamed him for his parent's death. They thought that it was his fault that they were killed. To everyone else his mom and dad were soft and loving people but when they were alone they had been abusive to Mason, he'd never been believed since they were important people in their line of work. His father was a sheriff and his mom a doctor. Mason grew up this way until someone broke in at night wearing all black and gloves along with a mask. The guy had stabbed them both in front of Mason before looking him straight in the eyes, the man's eyes silver and beautiful. That's all he could remember before the man left the house silently.

Because of the weird nature and the fact they couldn't find anyone who would do such a thing and wouldn't take the input of a child, everyone thought it was him who did it. He was moved in with family but after being kicked out after 6 years of being ignored or snapped at all the time, mason moves away to the city. He took the money left behind by his family and left to study in a better place, one away from the ridicule and abuse.

After he turned 20 he decided to return to the house since it was his now. He was struggling with all the financial stress of the city anyway and was alone with only a few friends that he knew wouldn't care if he left anyway. What else was there to do anyway?

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I look out the plane window. The clouds looked pretty against the sky as we soared above the small city, on our way in the direction I was headed. The plane wouldn't bring me directly to the town, I knew that, but I was planning on hitchhiking.

It took a few hours but when we landed in a city closest to Bluefeild I just took my one suitcase of luggage and headed out to the road that led into Bluefeild after a few miles out. I end up asking around at a gas station if anyone was heading out to that direction and after waiting 46 minutes a man said he was bringing a load of food there and could take me as long as I paid him $15 which wasn't a problem, so I did.

On the ride there my thoughts drift to my last and the anxiety of having to be back stirred something in me. Ever since watching the guy kill my parents just the thought of going into the house alone makes me anxious. When the guy broke in I was only 10, but it has always made me feel weird at the thought of the fact that the guy had looked right at me, his silver eyes showing nothing past the mask as he just stared at me for a bit before just turning around with the knife and escaping through the window he had come through. Why would he even brake in to kill them? Everyone in the town loves them. Through all my tears I lived there afterwards I never met those silver eyes again. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they died, but it's not something a 10-year-old wants to see.

We get there finally after around and hour and I pay him and thank him before walking down the street. My memory surprisingly still had some similarities with the street names and I found my way through until I stand still at the front of my new house/old house I inherited. It was the same house I remember, gray themed as it had been all those years ago. The paint was peeling slightly,,, and it looks a lot more run down than before but looked better than exposed

Now came the part I dreaded. Id have to walk in there. Into the kitchen I had watched it all unfold. Past the window that had been broken and boarded up in my absence.

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