Over the tall, white-glazed mountain peaks stood a single bright star that sparkled in the midst of the sky. A few clouds lingered and danced, covering the vivid light. Specks of wet dew were produced on the tips of the tall grass. The skinny, but strong branches on the trees stood beside one another. With a burst of strong wind, the branches clashed into each other making a sound that could be heard from a mile away. Every house was simply asleep. It was quite unbelievable for a human produced sound to be made on this street. Each house that stood on the street was dark because of the midnight hour. Not a single echo or even thud was produced. This was quite normal for the people living on Swift Stone Street until one mysterious night.
As the clock stroke midnight, a light turned on at the Smith’s house. All of a sudden, a horrifying, yet loud, screechy scream came from the house where Abigail Smith lived. A woman in her mid twenties came running out of her house like a lion who had just found its prey. A traumatized, horrendous facial expression was created upon her weary appearance. Her eyes were bright red steaming with terror. She stared at her house which was burning away at every second. Soon neighbors rushed outside in their pajamas and just stared at the woman and her house. Everyone was shocked until one man finally called the fire department. The woman fell to the ground, shaking.
She finally let out a big cry and screamed in fright, “I saw him! He ran out of my house, and broke every piece of furniture in my living room. He ran to the kitchen, took out a match and started a fire which turned into this huge mess. I don’t know what to do! Please help me!” Abigail was breathing heavily and was soon out of breath.
The man who had earlier called the police, ran up to her and said, “Don’t worry everything will be fine. We will fix this mess and find out who did this to you.” The woman stared at her house terrified. Soon after, the relieving sound of a fire truck gave Abigail a feeling of satisfaction. The fire truck sped through the streets and finally arrived at the almost burnt down house. The firemen rushed out of their rescue truck with their heavy gear and uniforms and began shooting the front of the house with their long hoses. Abigail Smith turned away as she did not want to see the remnants of her home.
The next morning, Abigail was seen outside her house still in shock from the previous night. The man, Jack Stone, helped Abigail the night before and had offered her a place to sleep until her house would be fixed and ready for her to live in.
“I am still in shock. I cannot believe that this happened to me. Why would anyone want to come into my house and start a fire? There has to be a logical explanation,” Abigail said curiously.
“Maybe the person was searching for something. The person must have wanted something that was a necessity. We must find out who did this to you. We will get our revenge,” said Jack in a vindictive manner.
Over the next few days which eventually turned into weeks, Abigail was found early in the morning, staring at her burnt house. She quietly sat on her lawn, confused.
“I’m ready,” Abigail said as Jack appeared behind her ten days after the horrific fire. Abigail slowly stood up shaking. Jack helped her up. He felt a rush of sorrow swirl throughout his body. He felt bad for Abigail. Her life was ruined. She had all her possessions in her house and it was all burnt down. Abigail slowly walked on her broken sidewalk, approaching her ashy patio. They walked in, pushing the broken door that contained cracks that were a mile long. Abigail and Jack looked around astonished. They were speechless. The house that Abigail Smith lived in was completely destroyed. Looking around, Jack quickly found a silver locket on the floor that looked brand new, and clean.
“Is this locket yours?” Jack asked Abigail quietly.
“No, I don’t think so. I never saw it before,” Abigail replied gazing directly at the locket that was in Jack’s hands.
“Wait a minute, this may be a clue! I think we found a clue! The locket does not even have a spot of dirt or ash on it. The rest your house is burnt except this locket.” Jack exclaimed happily. Abigail grabbed the locket and tried to open it. Suddenly, the locket clicked opened. Inside the locket, there was a slip. On the slip there was a simple address and a name:
Jacob Strage
5 Sately Road,
Los Angeles, Ca 90012
“Let’s go! We don’t have enough time,” Abigail said while in a rush.
“What do you mean let’s go? Do you want to get hurt? What if this man is a murderer? What if we go there and he pulls out weapons of mass destruction? Then we can kiss our pretty lives good bye. I don’t want that to happen,” Jack said firmly. He did not want to risk his life. Abigail ignored him, took him by his hand and pulled him towards the door. Jack quickly changed his mind knowing that he would not be able to argue with her.
Step by step Abigail and Jack walked. They walked for minutes which then turned into hours. It seemed as if they were walking forever until they finally reached Sately Road. They slowly approached the mailbox that clearly had the number five printed on it. They imagined the house to be frightening and spooky, but it turned out to be the complete opposite. Delicate, pink curtains appeared through the dashing window. The door was painted with a pure red color. The house was simple, but stunning.
“We should probably check if he is there,” Abigail suggested. She walked up to the door and knocked silently. Jack followed, regretting his every move.
The door slowly opened, and there stood an old woman. She was wearing rusty, red glasses which were placed upon her long nose. She was short and had a face which was filled with about a million wrinkles. Her eyes looked exhausted as if she did not sleep in a very long time.
“What do you want?” said the woman rudely.
“Is Jacob here?” said Abigail curiously.
“No, he is not here.” She began to close the door, but Jack stopped her.
“We have been walking for miles and miles and we will not leaving until we speak to Jacob,” said Jack. The women turned around and left the door open as a signal that we should follow her inside. As they walked inside they noticed a picture of a beautiful family framed in a sophisticated work of art.
“Jacob does not talk to anyone and he will certainly not want to talk to you,” the woman said. Both, Abigail and Jack exchanged confused glances with each other.
“He was telling me that he wanted something specific from you. He wanted something that could change his life forever. I think it is really important,” replied the elderly woman. Abigail was confused as she thought about what the man would want from her. As quick as a darted beam of light, the woman fell to the ground. Abigail and Jack ran to her. Jack placed his hand on her heart.
“She’s still breathing!” Jack screeched. As soon as he said those words, blood came out of the woman’s mouth like a silent river.
“Call the police!” Abigail shouted, crying at the same time.
“There’s no point. She’s already dead. I told her not to tell,” said a tall man who appeared through the bedroom door with a weapon in his hand. Abigail was urged to cry. She could not take it anymore.
“What do you want from me? Why are you trying to ruin my life? Just tell me please! I can’t take it anymore! You killed this poor woman and now you’re trying to kill me!” Abigail shouted at the man. Jack was speechless. He never saw Abigail yell like this before.
“Don’t worry; I’m not trying to kill you. I just want you to tell me where the red box is,” the man said in a malicious style.
“What red box? I do not know what you are saying! Jack and I have never seen this red box before that you want so dearly!” Abigail said crying out loud. Jack slowly nodded. He was blinking many times hoping that this was all a dream.
“YOU HAVE IT AND I KNOW YOU DO!” The man produced a sound that sounded like the roar of a tiger. Abigail gave Jack a wicked smile. Jack understood and did as what he was told.
Abigail started to laugh, “Do you really think you can get away with this? You just killed a woman in front of our eyes.
I can go to the police right now and tell them what you did.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You are too scared,” the man proclaimed. Abigail smirked in a mysterious way.
“That’s what you think,” Abigail said while laughing sneakily. All of a sudden, the sound of the police car swarmed into the ears of the man. The man stood in shock. Jack took out his phone and raised it up in the air. The screen clearly had the numbers 911 displayed on it.
“Have fun in jail,” Abigail said sarcastically. The man quickly ran out of the house before the police came in, but he tripped over the old woman that was on the floor. The police quickly handcuffed the man.
“You will never get away with this! I will get my box!” the man insanely barked. Abigail and Jack slowly watched the man who was forced into the police car.
“I don’t really understand him. Why would he not think of a plan just in case we called the police? What was he thinking?” Jack said laughing out loud.
“I think he has a mental disorder. I wonder what box he’s talking about,” Abigail replied. Jack nodded. They walked home and thought about this journey that had changed their life.
As Abigail, Jack, and the rest of the townspeople living on Swift Stone Street fell asleep, a single vibrant star shined in the dark blue sky. A few clouds lingered in the sky above, covering the brilliant star. A shadow appeared of a man walking across the street carrying an object in his hands. Abigail peered through the window and under the cloth that was covering this object, she could see a tint of red. As the wind blew silently, the cloth fell off and revealed a small red box. Abigail slowly covered her face with her blanket hoping that what she saw was a nightmare, but it wasn’t. The mystery was not over.