He just couldn't stop staring at that old painting, as if by looking at it the old man would stand from that chair, take his stick and walk out of the canvas. The walls surrounding him were very old, filled with dust and mould. The stairs were missing four steps, all next to each other, the termites had done its work destroying every piece of furniture in that old racked house. Jack had been there, sitting in the floor, just staring at the old man painting for days now.

And it hadn't been long since Jack last visit to the McFadden manor, the last time he left he had ran away again, this time it was because some stupid fight with his father about getting a job, and as usual being the last thing he said "You'll regret this, you'll regret this", as if this was his way of crying for his parents approval, who not even dead would they give him.

It used to be a pleasant place to be, the front yard was filled with lilies form all the countries Mrs. McFadden had been, including Mongolia, which according to herbologists all around the world was impossible, given that the Mongolian lilies had extinct thousands of years ago. But that was as Jack remembered his mother, always running into the impossible for the most stupid things, disregarding what really mattered.

The manor had a total of thirty nice rooms, which would have been great for a big family hosting events frequently, but that was not the case, both Helen and Richard McFadden had been only children and had only had two kids. Lily (named after her mother's obsession with the flowers) and Jack, so when they grew up, Jack and Lily found their selves most of the time finding their way through that big maze.

But now all that was gone, gone forever, Jack would never see his mother watering the lilies, or his father yelling at the cellphone even when it was off, or his terrible but yet beautiful sister running around with some new yuppie. He wouldn't ever see Mr.Snuggles, -or whatever the name of that stupid little dog was- jumping around his leg. Jack McFadden would no longer be able to call anyplace "home" because his had been taken away, even if all made sense he still couldn't believe that in just six weeks of his ran away, all would be tore apart.

He couldn't believe that thirty of the thirty-nine rooms had been demolished by nature's wrath, or that the hallway was filled with weird bushes breaking the concrete, the front yard had no signs of any lilies ever being there, his family hadn't left any footprint to evidence their existence.

And so, as Jack finally stood up, and walked to the back yard, he saw one last standing figure at the end of the garden, he walked to it, the wind was swirling with such strength that rhythmic whistles could almost be heard. As he approached to the item, he noticed it was a grave, "we never had a grave in the backyard" said Jack to himself, almost running now to the stone. And as he was close enough to read it, he just stood there, eyes width open, his heart just stopped.

"Here they rest in peace, the McFadden's, Helen and Richard, a beloved and respected couple and their daughter, Lily. All died as they lived, looking for young Jack McFadden's soul"



the other [Mrs. Kite]