Friday October 13th, 1952. I had just woken up and was getting ready for school. I was greeted to cold, dark weather as I opened my front door, weather which was quite unusual for North Zealandia. The day was also something to note as it was a day which is considered an extremely bad omen in our culture, one which some not-so-savory people seem to come out of hiding to do some not-so-savory things. I tried to ignore those bad omens as I entered my car though. I was making my way to my friend’s house to pick her up to go to school with me. As I was approaching her neighborhood and cruising down the main road to her street I saw brief glimpses of figures moving in the dark, they disappeared as quickly as they appeared. I dismissed it as just kids playing around and continued toward her house. I knew I was near her house the moment the bright red mailboxes that lined the corner of her street appeared, it was quite the odd arrangement of mailboxes. After about another minute of cruising I came to a stop right by her house. I got out of my car and knocked on her door three times, no answer. I knocked again, no answer. I decided to just let myself in since their door was unlocked. The house was dreary, quiet too. It wasn’t normally loud since my friend’s dad had always left for work ridiculously early, what he did that required him to work so early was a mystery to both my friend and I. I couldn’t find her downstairs so I walked up to her room, going up the stairs was quite nerve wracking, as the only thing accompanying me was the creaking of the steps and the lack of light her house had. I came up to her door and knocked three times, “Charlotte wake up, school’s gonna start,” I hollered, there was no accompanying reply, I knocked again even louder, four times this time, no reply. I knocked again, six times, then seven, then eight before I started pounding on the door. I stopped eventually and looked at the door, gathering up the courage to open it, I placed my hand on the doorknob, turned, and pushed.

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