It was a dark, foggy night. I can hear the sound of instruments playing far away in the Night House. She would be there now, playing her old rusty violin. The rich, deep sound would be enchanting people. Her face, beautiful as usual, with deep red lips, would be the point of attention. I can imagine her clearly in her white, pure clothes and the way she would look up at me when I look at her from a distance. I rush away from the Night House. I had to run from there because she spotted me. I clutch the present that I bought for her. After a while, I came back and checked whether she was still there. I opened the door slowly and it made a creaking sound. Out of the ordinary she wasn’t there. The Night House was deserted. There was not a single soul. I walk inside stepping on sheets of music and look at her body lying in the center of the room with her rusty old violin broken. She looked exactly like the same the day my mom died. I place my present on her body and whisper softly: "It was the violin you always wanted. I finally bought it." Her lips moved slightly. The sound of the instruments appeared once again and stopped.