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Through The Window
pt. 1



Setting/Time: 2015, Michael (I'm hc that he's 17-19) still lives with his grandmother.

Summary: You've just moved into the mysterious neighborhood in which the infamous Murder House resides. You decide to take a stroll in the neighborhood one afternoon when you come across him.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1,661


The sunlight beamed with confidence as you made your way through the front door of your family's newly purchased home

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The sunlight beamed with confidence as you made your way through the front door of your family's newly purchased home. You were very satisfied with said purchase. It wasn't too big, or too small. You also really enjoyed the fact that it was a much older home, with personality. It was a little creepy, but that's exactly why you loved it. You plugged in your headphones and exited the gates of your home. Crossing the street, you noticed the murder house, at the very end of the block. You enjoyed scary stuff, yes, but the fact that multiple people had died in there and gone missing in the home, gave you chills. You almost felt bad for the poor woman living in front of the home, waking up every day, to a house that has seen so much carnage.

Walking down the sidewalk, you noticed that the other homes in the neighborhood couldn't have been much older than your home, or the murder house. You made your way down the sidewalk, getting closer to the house with each step you took.

Before you almost noticed that you had arrived in front of the murder house, something else caught your attention. To your right, a lawn, completely decorated with roses. They looked as if they've survived through at least the past winter. By the picketed fence, an older woman, planting another rose bush. It was a woman you had seen before, unloading her groceries from her car a few days prior. That's when it hit you. The poor woman who lived in front of the murder house. You quickly turn to your left and see the home, staring back at you.

"Hello, there sweetheart." You jump slightly at the southern accent coming from behind you. You turn to see the woman staring up, patting some soil onto her newly planted rose bush. "Don't worry. That house manages to grow on you," She smirked. "My name is Constance Langdon." She said, getting up and patting some dirt off of her clothes. "Hello. My name is Y/N." You replied with a weak smile, still processing her previous comment on how the murder house grows on you. "I presume you're new around here? I know almost everyone in this neighborhood. You're a new face." She says with a warm smile. "Yes I am actually," You responded. "I noticed you were admiring my roses?" Constance said.

"Yeah.. they look amazing. I was planning on having a garden of my own. But my roses always end up dying after a while, unfortunately."

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