Until today, I remembered my visits to Mrs. Burnage's house fondly. The neighborhood I lived in was small, with only ten houses on the entire street. Each house was located far apart and each had at least three acres of property. Our house was at one end of the road, and Mrs. Burnage's at the other. Burnage was a nice lady, probably in her fifties when my three sisters, Jason Adams (another younger kid on the block), and I went to visit her. I visited him from the ages of eight to thirteen. Mrs. Burnage had no children; she was not capable of it, according to my mother. So she loved it when we came to her house, and so did we. Even though she didn't have children, her home was a childhood dream. Upon entering, there were two living areas, one on the right, another on the left. The one on the right was pretty normal with sofas, a TV, a coffee table, a few hunted animals hanging on the wall, etc. The one on the left, which is a notch lower (and therefore a notch higher) than the rest of the room. house, was a paradise for children. The main thing I remember about this room was that it had one of those red popcorn machine carts. As soon as we came to our house, she would put in fresh popcorn kernels and butter and have it ready hot for us just minutes after we arrived. She had dolls with elaborate dollhouses all over the room for the girls, and she had trucks, Legos, K'nex, an assortment of balls, and even a pinball machine for the boys. We played it for hours without getting tired of it. Mrs. Burnage didn't seem to either. She loved listening to us play. She would bake cookies and smile widely when she heard us laughing. She always told us that our laughter was the happiest sound. We loved our time in that game room... middle of paper... no popcorn for me, "I told you I didn't want you always come back! I don't have any more I need you! Leave me alone!” I left quickly, and she followed me out and stood in the doorway, watching my every retreating step. the road, I could still hear the recorded voices and laughter of my sisters, me and Jason My stomach turned thinking about how scary it all was, but then my stomach turning fell. on the ground as I looked at a wide-eyed Mrs. Burnage, staring at Mrs. Burnage, then through the gate to the backyard pool. At the edge of the pool was what appeared to be a statue. far away at this point, but the figure appeared to be a small boy, standing still, looking out the door into the woods behind the house. The boy was wearing a familiar red hoodie and blue jeans. Have I mentioned Mr. Burnage yet? He was a taxidermist.