“ Kane! Can you grab that last box from the car?” called Kane’s mother, Amy.
“Yes ma’am!” replied Kane from the upstairs bedroom, which was now going to be his. Kane hurried down the stairs and out the front door, jogging down the cobblestone path, and up to the silver Saturn, reaching into the back seat to retrieve the final box. Why did his mother want to keep all this stuff in the first place? Why not sell most of the valuables? He knew it would’ve helped pay off the rest of the mortgage on the house. As Kane turned back toward the big house, he noticed a flicker of movement in the attic window. It must have been his mother, checking out the dusty top room.

Kane hobbled inside, trying to keep the box, which contained his grandmother's expensive and old chinaware, from dropping and breaking the fragile contents. “Mom?” the young boy called, as he walked through the tight corridor, that led into the unfurnished, living room.

“Yes?” Mrs. Knox called from the back of the house. That’s strange, Kane thought to himself. How could his mother make it from the Attic to the kitchen so quickly? Kane quickly marched toward the kitchen, dispersing the box onto the mahogany dining table. When he walked into the spacious scullery, Kane found his mother busying herself, with arranging spices, and stocking up the massive kenmore fridge with produce of all sorts.
“Were you just in the attic?” asked Kane, giving his mother a puzzled look.
“No,” replied Mrs. Knox, returning the look of confusion. “ I have been here the whole time, unloading the groceries. Don’t worry I am sure it was nothing. Oh!” cried Kane’s exclaimed, “ I was wondering, can you please unload the china and set it out on the table for me? I will put it away, If you can just set it out for me.”
“Sure,” Kane said. Kane turned around and walked straight back into the dining room. Kane was then left in a sense of shock, to find that all the china, even the ones that were already put away, were spread out all around. White, ceramic plates and bowls covered the long table, plates on the bottom and bowls sitting on top of them. wine glasses and teacups were perfectly balanced onto the chairs and cushions, trembling as if a light breeze blew against them. And the floor, was but a sea of silver. Spoons, forks, knives, ladles, and the occasional butter knife, littered the floor, sparkling and shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight. Kane immediately turned around, and bolted into the kitchen. “Mom, Mom, MOM!!!!” Kane yelled, almost tripping and falling onto the dirty floor.
“What, WHAT?!?!” responded Amy, also raising her voice.
“You need to come see this...NOW!!” Kane said, an urgency in his voice, making him sound sharp and demanding.
“Ok, OK, I am coming! Just give me a minute to put up these tomatoes,” said Amy.
“NO! NO! You have to come NOW!!” responded Kane. He walked over to his mother, and seizing her by the hand, quickly lead her into the dining room. “Look!” Kane said, but to his surprise, did not find what he was expecting. The plates and bowls had vanished, the wine glasses and teacups were nowhere to be found, and the floor was just maroon carpet, not one piece of shining silverware in sight.
“What was it you wanted me to see?”asked Mrs. Knox, becoming slightly impatient.
“The… The chinaware…it was scattered everywhere! I swear!” Kane cried.
“Look,” said Amy, peering down into the young man's eyes,”I know you think that this new life we have won’t be as good as we thought, but we should just make the best of it. Lets keep the pranks on hold until we finish settling in. Ok?”
“ But… this wasn’t a prank! I swear! I walked in to unload the box, and then I saw it all scattered out! Even the china we already put away!” Kane said, now getting frustrated. Why didn’t his mom believe him? She always believed him.
“So what are you saying? That the dishes and silverware moved themselves?” Amy said, getting frustrated herself. She walked over to the box, and opened it. “ Besides, its all right here,” she replied, revealing the contents. there were some bowls and wine glasses, mingling with knives and forks. Mrs. Knox walked over to the china cabinet and opened the glass, doors, showing the magnificent display of 1970 chinaware. “See its all here.”
“But-”
“Kane, come on. What? Do you think house is haunted or something?”
“I...I don’t know,”Kane said looking down in shame.
“Look, I will put the dishes up, as soon as I am done with the groceries. How about you go up stairs, and start to unpack your stuff?” said Amy, giving Kane a pleading look.
“ Yes ma’am,” Kane turned toward the door, and walked out, heading for the winding stair that lead to the second level of the house. As he was going up, Kane heard his mother sigh, and walk back into the kitchen. Slowly, Kane climbed the plain white staircase, running his hand along the dark red walls. When he reached the top, the young man stepped through the doorway of his bedroom. The spacious quarters, had forest green walls, which were slightly scented of freshly mowed grass. The room came with an enormous 4 poster bed, which strangely also smelled like grass, but with a hint of sage and lavender. To the right of the doorway, was a tall glass window, with semi-transparent curtains, that were bone white. On the other side of the window, was a wide balcony, which overlooked the road, and the distant city of Cape Fear, North Carolina, their new home.
Kane and his mother, Amy, used to live in New York City, in a small neighborhood of Manhattan. His mom originally worked as a Kindergarten teacher, but when the school closed down, Kane and his mother knew they would have to move. So after months of job searching, Mrs. Knox finally landed a job at the elementary school in town. The pay was good, and because of Amy’s background, the administration offered to pay the first week of the mortgage on the house. Though Kane’s mother worked at a school, Kane requested to be homeschooled, at least for 1 year. Surprisingly, Kane’s mother agreed, and said that the following Monday, Kane would have to begin his online lessons, and shouldn’t expect any slack on the work load.
“I will give you just as much work as any teacher would,” said his mother, when they finally agreed. That was a week ago, yet it seemed like a century ago.
There was a loud thump in the closet, that shook Kane back to reality. He slowly rose, but showed no attempt to move toward the closet. Again, came the loud bang on the closet door, like someone was rapping their knuckles on the hardwood. Then again, and again, and again. The continuous clouting kept an even tempo, like a metronome, except louder. Kane made his way slowly toward the walk-in, every step with caution. His palms felt moist with sweat, his whole body trembling, yet what he didn’t know was, why? Why should he feel so afraid? Kane reached for the ornate handle, slowly turning it, and opened the door.
The little toy car, that kept trying to go forward, hit the door frame repeatedly, then when Kane had the door wide open, it zoomed out the closet, through the bedroom door, only to once again hit another door frame. Kane shook his head in relief, and closed the closet door. He crossed the room and started to unpack. This house just gets weirder and weirder, he thought to himself.
****

The final glass was on its appropriate shelf, and Amy closed the glass door of the china cabinet. She gathered all the wrapping paper, and set it into the large cardboard box. Maybe Kane was right, maybe they should have sold most of the china. They would have made a small fortune from the old collection. Amy couldn’t bring herself to part with the delicate chinaware, though. It belonged to her grandmother, and it was all she had left of the old woman. Just looking at the white plates and bowls, and the magnificently decorated tea cups, brought back many memories. Some good, some bad, but that didn’t matter. Amy loved her grandmother dearly, and after she passed away, Amy just couldn’t accept that she was gone. That’s why she wouldn’t get rid of the chinaware.
There was a loud thump from upstairs, which was loud enough to resonate throughout the house.
“Kane? What’s going on up there?” called Amy. Another thump. It sounded like someone was knocking on the walls above her. “Kane what in the world are you doing up there?” Amy called again. Like a metronome, there would be a knock every other second, keeping a continuous tempo. Then, just as quickly as it started, the thumping stopped. Mrs. Knox stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up, listening intently for another minute, shrugged then walked back towards the kitchen.

Kane placed the final pair of socks in the bottom drawer, and closed it. He looked around his room with a satisfying glance. the wall, which used to be bare and plain, was now covered with posters of Kane’s favorite bands and framed photos of Kane and his mother. The four poster bed was enveloped in maroon sheets and black pillows. What Kane thought was convenient, was that the curtains surrounding the frame of the bed, were deep, slate gray, almost black, so it didn’t seem to clash with the sheet colores. He once again opened his closet, all the clothes were either hung up or folded neatly in the drawers. while the outside part of the closet door remained untouched, the inside revealed a large life size poster of the Pink floyd insignia, the black triangle, with its multicolored rainbow. Off to the side of the door, close to the hinges, was a small picture of Kane and his father, taped to the edge of the Pink Floyd poster. It was the only picture he had of his father… it was the only one he was able to keep his mother from burning.

Mr. Knox was a construction worker in New York, and that had been his job, most of his adult life. He and Amy met running into each other, he was walking in one direction towards the site he worked at, at the time, and Kane’s mother was walking the other way, talking with a teacher over the phone. They bumped into each other, both spilling their coffee on the other. Mr. Knox offered to pay for the dry cleaning, and buy Kane’s mother lunch, later that afternoon. Afterwards, Mr. Knox and Amy, would constantly keep running into each other, and the next thing you knew, they were getting married. A few years after getting married, Amy became pregnant with Kane, and the child was born on September 25th, 2001. But when Kane was 5 years old, his father died, being crushed by a crane. That night, Kane saw his mother weeping in front of the fireplace, throwing in old pictures of his father, watching them burn, and turn to ash. The young 5-year old couldn’t bear to watch his mother in the state that she was in, and ran back to his room. When he got back, he noticed that Mrs. knox neglected to take the picture in his room, so Kane hid it away, and never told his mother that he still had it. It was all he had left of him.

“Kane!” Kane’s mother called from downstairs, “Kane! Dinner is ready!” Kane looked away from the photo, noticing that he had tears in his eyes, and quickly wiped them away.
“Coming!” he responded, and turned out the room. Not a word was exchanged between the mother and her son, and so they ate in silence. The whole time, Kane couldn’t stop thinking about his father, and eventually, the thought proved too much for him. So he excused himself and headed for the bathroom. There he silently cried, letting go of his sadness, letting it run like a faucet. A couple of minutes later, there came a knock at the door.
“Kane?” said Amy, talking in a gentle voice, “Is everything ok in there?”
“Yeah,” Kane said, once again wiping away the hot tears, “I will be right out.”
“Ok,” said Amy, and Kane could hear her walk away.

The next day, Kane awoke to the smell of coffee brewing, and bacon frying. There was a knot in his shoulder, and his mouth was parched. Kane felt sluggish and a little groggy. When he looked into his bathroom mirror, he saw that his hair was dis-shelved, and that there were deep bags under his reddish eyes. Last night, after Kane came out of the bathroom, he went to bed, but couldn’t go to sleep, so cried himself to the point of exhaustion, until he was tired enough to sleep.
Kane shuffled into the kitchen, finding his mom in a faded red sox t-shirt and sweatpants, her maroon hair also like a rat’s nest. In front of her, bacon was laid out in a frying pan, sizzling, hissing, and spitting like an angry cobra. Off to the right of Mrs. Knox, sat 2 plates, and a 3rd, stacked high with pancakes. Both plates had eggs and hashbrowns, sitting with steam curling off the delicious food.
“Hey! How did you sleep?” said Amy when she spotted her son.
“Good,” Kane responded.
“What’s the matter? And why are your eyes so red?” asked Amy, her eyes growing with concern.
“Nothing...nothings the matter,” replied Kane, “and I slept with my face in the pillows...I think the dust from the mattress made my allergies act up, thats all.” Kane didn’t like to lie to his mother, but if he had told her the real reason why his eyes were so red, then he would have to bring up his Father. He wouldn’t be able to watch his mother fall to pieces again, it would just be too much to bear.
“Oh, ok,” said Amy, but she didn’t seem too satisfied with the answer, like she knew her son was lying, “ Well, in that case, are you hungry?”
“Yes please!” replied Kane, eagerly reaching for one of the plates, and went to sit down. A moment later, his mother emerged from the kitchen, carrying her plate, the small platter of pancakes, and some hot syrup.
“Before we eat, go wash up,” said Mrs. Knox
“Yes ma’am,” said Kane, and he marched to the sink in the bathroom. Kane turned on the faucet, filling the basin with cool water, and began to scrub his hands. When he was satisfied with the result of his hygienic cleansing, Kane picked up the hand towel and started to dry his hands. Suddenly, there was a blood curdling scream and the crashing of furniture, coming from the dining room. Kane bursted through the bathroom door, and darted into the dining room. What Kane found left him in horror.
Syrup covered the walls, like a great big, brown, blood splatter. Pancakes and broken dishes littered the floor, the flower vase that ornamented the table was nothing but glittering dust, and the freshly picked flowers were dead and wilted. The plain, dark brown chairs were overturned, some with the legs broken, and the long table, was cracked down the middle. To Kane’s right, where the wall was, knives and forks were sunk deep into the plaster and wood. The circular mirror that was centered on the wall, was shattered to bits and cracked around the frame. It looked as if someone wanted a place for target practice. But where was Amy? She was nowhere to be found.
“Mom!? MOM! Where are you?” Kane cried, scanning the room for his mother.
“Here…I’m here,” said his mother feebly, emerging from beneath the table.
“What happened?” Kane asked, rushing to his mother and helping her up.
“I...I don’t know. You left...and while I was waiting...the flowers, they just wilted.” said his mother. Her whole body was trembling, and big tears were starting to form in her eyes.
“Well, they’re flowers, they are going to wilt,” replied Kane, though not believing a word he said.
“No! You don’t understand! Those were fresh flowers, and they wilted in a matter of seconds!” yelled his mother, feeling more scared than before. Kane looked into his mother’s eyes, and saw truth in them.
“What happened then?” Kane pushed on.
“ The syrup flung against the wall, then the vase shattered...and after that all hell broke loose! I couldn’t see what was going on because I had my eyes closed, but I could hear the table crack and the chairs fall over. Then I heard you come in, and that’s it,” Amy explained, finally getting herself under control.
“It’s over now. How about you go sit down on the couch. I’ll bring you some tea,” Kane said. Mrs. Knox nodded, and Kane helped her walk to the living room, and set her down on the couch. Kane was walking back through the dining room when he heard what he sounded like whispering. He stopped mid-step, and listened. The voice he heard, which was definitely whispering, was low, and powerful, like the sound of a coming storm. There was no sense of joyful feeling in the the soft, quiet, sound, and it sounded old and archaic. A chill went down Kane’s spine and his palms were sweaty with perspiration.
“Him…”
Kane waited.
“Him...Him…” It said again, repeating itself with a malicious tone. It was like someone immobilized Kane and prevented him from moving or speaking; like he was stone. “Him...Him...He is Him,” said the voice for a final time. Kane regained movement over his body, and staggered for a moment. The chill in his back left him shivering with fear, and caution. He turned his head to face the wall that had forks and knives protruding from its flat surface. Something was strange about how the silverware was arranged. they weren’t randomly spread about the wall, but formed some pattern.
Kane stepped back.
Letters began to form, all shiny and glittery in the light.
He stepped back some more.
And before Kane’s eyes, was the word:

HIM

The word imprinted itself into his head, and the whispered words, told by the low and malicious voice, rang in his ears. Kane was getting a suspicious feeling, a feeling, that him and his mother were not alone in this house. Whatever was here, lurking in every corner and shadow, wanted Kane and his mother packed up and gone. Or just gone.

END OF PART 1