The night everything changed

That night.

The window had a single pane of glass, framed in wood. Brown paintwork flaked off , trying to escape- being bounded into the wood, initials to be exact. A capital R, for Rachel. A beautiful fair-haired woman. Then a J, for John. A man who never stopped smiling. That single pane of heated sand protected the young couple and their new-born twins from everything-except one thing-HIM.

Soft giggles ran though out the house, and followed by the gentle chuckles of a adoring father. Embers of a roaring fire kept them warm during the darkness of the night. Sitting on the armchair behind John was Rachel. A glowing smile engulfed her face as she sipped her freshly brewed coffee. "Are you having fun my dear?" Rachel placed her coffee, on the coffee table and joined her husband and children on the floor. "Very much so!" a chuckle escaped John's mouth once more. "Mother says, Winston and James have grown so much since she last saw them" Rachel cradled one of her boys within the comfort of her arms. "Agreed, but I have to take care of some - things." Swiftly John stood up, and walked to the library.

Rachel tucked her babies into their beds, and planted a soft kiss on each of their foreheads - so soft you couldn't feel it. She returned to her room, for her husband John. Who had been acting rather, strange ever since the children where born. waiting for hours, on her bed, reading books. The grandfather clock struck 12 o'clock. Midnight. Screeches escaped from the ageing floor boards, as her wait shifted from one to the other. "J-john?" Rachel tip-toed around the house, searching for a light source. "J-john" Rachel whispered again, this time a little more concerned. Within the furthest corner of the library was John, scribbling away in his note-book. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth. "Found you!"  

Anxious, John sat down on one of the red velvet chairs in the library. A small note book was in his left hand and a book resting on the left arm of the chair. Scribbling in his notebook, john wrote about how he started hearing and seeing things, ever since James and Winston were born. He also wrote about his concerns, the ones he had about the oddly placed tent that has been pitched between their property and Mr Argent. Each time he had visited it, there was never any food, drink. No sign of people living there. Just a box of matches. He knew someone was there, because two days after the twins were brought home a man was looking thought the kitchen widow - right at the stairs. Longing to climb up them. John had been stressing over this man, and why he was here, what he wanted. John even started dreaming of this man. That's how the voices started, with him. He couldn't bare to be around his family for long periods of time because horrid, sinister thoughts would consume his mind. He wouldn't give in to them. As he sat there in that chair, writing down what he was thinking, his wife Rachel appears and walks up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Hey sweetie, it's really late. Are you coming to bed?" A long silence followed as John tried to process what Rachel had said without the cluster of voices present. "yes" Standing up, john slid his note pad into his back pocket and proceeded to follow his wife up the stairs to bed. 

Once again the clock chimed, the grandfather clock's face read 3'' o'clock. It was still dark outside since it was September. Shortly after the door knocked three times. Each for the chimes on the clock. Alarmed John jolted out of bed, waking his wife up in the process. He knew this wasn't a family member, nor Mr Argent looking to borrow some sugar. It was the camper, just like the days after the twins arrived home. The camper knocked on the window three times at 3am. John ran to the front door as fast as his body could carry him, with a two barrel shot gun in his hands. Pointing it the wooden door. "I know who you are" John screamed, foaming at the mouth "You're not going to hurt my family" The sound of the shot gun load was enough to frighten anyone away. "When I open this door you better have gone, or this bullet will have moved into your head" Enraged John charged at the front door, about to swing it open when - a loud scream came from upstairs. It was Rachel. A man; who had long sharp nails, yellow in colour, and wore a black hood along with cape which only exposed his nails. Stood on the landing between the two boys bed rooms. When John reached the top of the stairs, he met the man (or creature) that had been terrorising his thoughts. His long pointy nails pointed to two things, his wife. Or his children's bedrooms. John had to choose between them or her, naturally he ran to his sobbing wife, who was cowering in the corner. But at that moment he realised his mistake, and understanding the consequences of his actions. Just like that, a match was dropped and a fire broke out.

John panicked ran to both of his children's rooms, no child, no man to be seen. Just a broken window and a piece of blooded glass. His wife's cries of agony flooded the family home as she was eaten by the flames, too scared by the events just taken place to move. her sin burned and cracked like coal in a Christmas stocking. Blood escaped the body and dried up. Suddenly John runs into the fire, dragging Rachel out. He carries her to the kitchen, but the fire had spread to the front door. Trapping them in their family home. Rachel sobbed in John's arms, slowly withering away. Slipping in and out of consciousness, trying to fight for her husband. "I love you" Rachel mouthed before finally closing her eyes for the last time. John collapsed onto the stone floor, laying his dead wife's body down and softly weeping into her chest. Creeping slowly the heat of the fire intensified as it got closer, and closer to John and Rachel. He knew that he wasn't going to escape and clung to Rachel's body before he too was taken by the amber flames that had taken Rachel. 

Those twins - we would have grown up different if it wasn't for that one camper.