Distant Sorrows (4)

Across the street from the Harisson Property was a small house. It was cramped and wooden, painted with a faint white coat. The foliage surrounding it was unattractive, and the broken windows were an addition to its ghastliness. But the house's occupants were opposite to its repulsive exterior. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Sweeterly. The were eccentric fold, who baked unceasingly. The Beater continuously complained about the sweet smell of chocolate brownies being baked, and secretly she hoped she wouldn't be caught by them abusing Abraham. 

One night during mid February a dreadful event occurred. Abraham slept strangely peaceful that night, the winter brought cold to his closet, which was a rare enjoyment for him. The sound of sires woke him up suddenly, and he was unable to fall back asleep. He stirred a bit, and then sat up. More sirens approached, and Abraham started to wonder, "What if the house is on fire?" He tried opening the door, but he already knew it was locked. All he had to do was wait. Abraham waited a while, and soon fell asleep. He woke up hours later, to find a newspaper sitting next to him. It was opened up to the obituaries section, "Mr. and Mrs. Sweeterly, murdered last night in a small Arkansas neighborhood," it read.  Abraham shivered, he grabbed the newspaper and tossed it to the corner, he heard it fall heavily, and then he looked at it curiously. He picked it up once more, to find a blood soaked dagger hidden within one of the pages. 

-Eric