Poppy and her sister Cleo stood in front of their old family house on Alderwood Street and Poppy was speechless.

” I thought you said it was run down, ” Poppy sputtered, ” I thought you said it was a dive.”

” Well – ”

” It a shell, it’s absolutely in ruins! I wouldn’t haunt this place if  I was a chain rattling,  sheet wearing ghost. ” Poppy cried. She dropped to the ground, pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed.

” Get up Poppy. A woman of your age on the ground sobbing like a baby. Honestly. It’s not dignified. ”

” I thought someone would take care of it, I thought arrangements were made. ”

Cleo looked down at her sister. She sighed and then took a seat next to her. She could feel the damp from rotting leaves soaking into her backside.

” You can’t expect anyone to have wanted to do that, nobody wants anything to do with a house where the entire family was murdered in their beds by an ax wielding maniac. ”

” But Cleo- ”

” Face it Poppy, no matter what state it’s in,  this is our home and this is where our hearts are. ”

Cleo stood up and held her hand out to her sister.  She thought about the  eight hearts that their killer had taken from their family and buried in the side  yard after he had made himself lunch and  cut himself a slice of the apple pie their Mother had made the day before.

” It’s a death trap. ” Poppy said sadly.

“Yes it is Poppy, it certainly is. ”

Photographer Unknown