By Ebony Fisher
There was this family--a single mother with two children, one boy and one girl. They were twins, at the age of ten. On the night this event took place, it was a thunderous, stormy night. Mother had gotten up to check on the kids, Tiffany and Tim, to see if they were okay. She walked out of her room, grabbing the flashlight off her nightstand in case the lights were to go out.
As she jogged up the stairs, she slipped on a piece of chewed up bologna, and fell on her knees. The kids were supposed to clean up the house that day. There were toys, ripped clothes, and chewed shoes all over the steps and at the top of the second floor of the house. As mother walked a little slower, she heard foot steps behind her, but she didn't see anything. All of a sudden, the lights flashed off. It was pitch dark now, but she still walked up the stairs to check on her kids. Almost at the top, she heard a loud knock. She ignored it but the knock got louder and louder. Finally, when she made it to the top of the stairs, it stopped.
She went straight into the kids' room. Both children were sound asleep. As she scanned the room with the flashlight, she noticed their dog, Roscoe, wasn't in the room with them. Now thinking back, she remembered she put him outside for tearing up the house earlier that day. She thought the banging at the door she had heard earlier must have been Roscoe. She began walking back downstairs when the lights suddenly came back on. When Mom had made it downstairs, she immediately went to the front door to let Roscoe in. As she turned the knob slightly, the light went out again.
Now, a bit frightened, mother went to turn the knob again. The door swung open. Slam! It knocked down the vase behind the door. After all the commotion, she heard footsteps upstairs. She yelled, "Everything's okay, kids. Go back to bed." The footsteps got louder. She yelled once more, "I said everything's okay. Get back in your beds!" Mother then noticed she'd had the door open for about three minutes, but there was still no sign of Roscoe. She whistled and shouted "Roscoe, Roscoe! Come here, boy!" Still, no Roscoe. She walked under the porch to see if she could see him through the rain.
Roscoe had been a gift to her children from her deceased husband. He had been killed in their last house during a home robbery. The funny thing about that was that the robber never stole anything.
Mother called out "Roscoe, Roscoe" once more. And still, she didn't see him. As she turned and headed inside, she began to hear barking. She turned around, but didn't see anything at first. She tried looking past the rain another time. As she squinted to see if she could see him, she saw a red spot in the grass moving towards her. It got closer and closer. It was Roscoe, bloody, wet, and ripped in two. Yet he was still walking. Confused at this, she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things. It was Roscoe, though. He continued walking toward her when she was a man, about 6'3", walking behind him who looked like he'd been shot in the head and stabbed in the heart and stomach.
She ran inside. Now the man began banging on the door, hard. "Sweetie, open up! Don't you miss me, honey?" said the man. "Babe, open up for me and Roscoe. We need to talk to you." "No!" she screamed. The man shouted through the door, "Why'd you kill me and Tommy, darling? I thought you loved us. But I see you loved this house more." Breaking the glass with his fist, he reached through the door and unlocked it. The man and Roscoe entered.
When they got married, she knew that she would inherit three million dollars the day he died. They had been married a year when she had gotten pregnant with triplets--Tiffany, Tim, and Tommy. They had been looking at a certain house for about four years but they could never afford it. She was obsessed with the house; she would visit it every day. One night, she decided she was going to get that house by any means. That's when the planned the fake robbery and death of her husband. She shot him three times in the head and also stabbed him in the heart, stomach, and back. Five year old Tommy woke up from all the noise. He saw his dad dead. Before he could say or do anything, she shot her son in the head once. Little Tommy died instantly.
Now she stood there face to face with her zombie husband. "Honey, I love you." He kissed her deeply. After the kiss, he grabbed her neck. "I love you, babe, and I think we should make up and be together for the rest of our lives. Ha ha. But, wait! We should have the whole family here. Come here, Tommy." Tommy walked down the stairs. "Yes, Daddy?" "Do you want to be a family again?" dad asked. "Yes," Tommy said, excited. "Go get your brother and sister." Tommy headed back upstairs to get them. Mom yelled, "Don't hurt my children!" What she didn't know was that they were already dead when she checked on them earlier. Two ghost-like versions of Tiffany and Tim walked down the steps, seeming to float. "See, honey. All we need now is you," Dad said.
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