We Lit The Fire And It's Burning Bright

Temper's POV

Unlike most homes, my fireplace is located deep in my basement. I make my way down the stairs and through the lowest level of the building.

Word has it that John Dillinger broke the basement window to escape the blizzard outside while attempting to rob a nearby factory. Once inside, he discovered the homeowner's most prized possession. This was a boy named Kellin. They say Kellin was,at the most, age 9 and had just arrived home from camp and had decided to enjoy the fireplace's warmth.

Dillinger, a malicious man indeed, shot the boy perhaps seven times. Along with this, he poisoned the family's drinking water. Kellin, his parents, and the five of his siblings had passed away that night.

I cross a long bleak hallway, velvet surrounding the somewhat stone like floor. Flashlight in hand, I walk up to our rather massive fireplace. It had rich oak surrounding its base, and small angels carved magnificently in various poses. I lowered the flashlight, focusing on the lower part of the furnace . Words were inscribed in chunky blue letters. Only two.


Temper, temper.

Notes

New Chapter!