It was 1 am on a midsummer night.  The air was hot thick with moisture.  It  is pitch black except for the dull shadow of the moon light.  With flashlight in hand, look up to see the long abandoned house.  With the light of my flashlight I could still tell where the once beautiful flower gardens laid on each side of the steps leading to the porch.  Now, those once beautiful gardens are full of weeds and pieces of dieing house. The once clean white paint is now flaking to dust off of the wooden panels that previously protected the house.  Ivy crawls on every inch of the sides of the house.  Most of the glass windows are broken from rebellious children and strong storms. The house itself is really an eye sore.  Countless petitions to demolish the house were turned into the town hall, but all of them were denied.  Personally, I think that the reason so many of them got denied is because the council members know the history behind that house that sits on on Elwood Street.   Although it sounds silly there really is evil in that house.  Fifty years ago there lived a middle aged couple, the Millers.  They had a beautiful home a beautiful marriage, and a beautiful little life, or so it seemed.  The Millers were the type of people who kept to themselves.   Although they seemed relatively normal, you could tell they kept to themselves for a reason, and what happened behind the closed doors of their home remained behind those doors. They never came to the block parties even though they were invited.  Or decorated for any holidays like, Halloween or Christmas.  People say every house on Elwood Street was elaborately decorated except for the Miller house.
Often times people would see Ms. Miller in the front yard tending to her beloved gardens with her long blonde shiny hair draped over her shoulders. She had tan skin and bright blue eyes. She was quite kind and always said a shy hello to the passing neighbors.  Mr. Miller was much different.  He often took long walks alone at dawn always keeping his head bowed even when a friendly neighbor would say hello and ask how he was doing.  He was about 6 foot 5 inches with pale skin and big glasses.  He had an awkward walk.  He limped and moved extraordinarily slowly.  One quiet summer night there was a loud scream coming from the Miller household.  It was so loud it woke every neighbor on the street.  One of the neighbors called 911. 
When the police arrived, they entered the home to find Ms.Miller lying dead on the floor of her entry way.  She was carried out under a white sheet that became drenched with blood from just touching her skin.  What was not found when the police started to investigate the house was Mr.Miller.   The murder of poor Ms.Miller was so gruesome it was not put in the paper or broadcasted on the radio. 
Still to this day nobody has ever seen Mr.Miller again  and nobody knows what really happened on that cool summer night on Elwood Street.  Some say Mr.Miller came back four years after his wife's death and lives in the cellar of his once beautiful home. 
So I stand here in the dead of the night on the anniversary of the unsightly murder of Ms.Miller to uncover the truth about what really happened that night.  I stepped onto the first step of the Miller home, it creaked loudly.  I steadied myself and, quickly scurried the rest of the way.  There was a piece of crime scene tape still stuck in the front door.  I reached out to touch the cold handle,turned the knob and opened the creaky door.  I stepped onto the hardwood floor and strained my eyes to try to see into the dark  room ahead of me,and shine my flashlight into the darkness to get a better look.  The beam of revealing light made my eyes widen and I could feel my heart pound hardly against my chest.  What I saw just could not be real.