He was the funniest boy I had ever met. He would make everyone laugh. You could pretty much, ask anyone and they would say he was the centre of attention in the whole room. He was everything I was not. He used to get excellent grades; a few times he achieved the number one rank in our high school. He was invested in almost every extracurricular activity and sport imaginable to sixteen years old. He was liked by all his classmates, even the teachers adored him. He was the star pupil of our school.

When writing this down, I remember all those emotions that built up inside me. At the time, I could not express my feelings to anyone nor to him. I used to be one of those stereotypical guys who would get straight A's. He was a shadow and continued to be one. Suddenly, the world turned upside down, and now he was on top. He excelled at everything and became a role model. I was thrown aside, and now he was on stage, while I became his shadow. You can call it an infatuation or hatred or jealousy, but these unknown emotions churned within me. He had an ego issue, and he had his worshippers. Some of my friends were too and when I would go against his word, they would say I was jealous. Maybe I was, but I could not confess my feelings to anyone at that time. It's honestly laughable that I'm confessing to the internet here.

But, let's continue the incident, shall we? It seemed from afar that his life was too perfect. I could give a long list of things about how perfect his life was. But, there was something weird about him. If you ever did look into his emotionless brown eyes, it was as if you were whisked away and plunged into the depths of the Maria Trench. Some said it was odd, but he smiled all the time and cracked jokes with everyone. I was the only one who recognized that it was a call for help, a pleading child who wanted some help. Another peculiar thing was that his parents never let anyone of us into their house. It was odd, but nothing out of ordinary. The Smiths don't allow any of us because they're clean freaks and don't want us to track mud or our germs into the household. His parents worked at the DeTuscan Law firm. They seemed to run a foster programme or some child care programme out of their house.

The boy's name was Matthew. He had an older brother named Johnny or Jonathan? I can't remember, but I rarely ever saw him. His brother and parents were strict at home, but in public, were the most carefree and bubbly people I had ever met. His family dynamic was similar to mine. I had a little sister and my parents were strict but allowed me to enjoy my childhood. Then, Matthew and his family suddenly disappeared, leaving most of their belongings. I and no one else could say why they decided to leave. As it was a normal day and there were no signs of abnormal behaviour from them. The authorities justified that it might have been the missing children cases which made them leave town. I can understand their fear, but their departure was is not justifiable. I had lost my sister that year and our family was a wreck. But, we didn't leave, and we faced those memories lurking in our house and the streets of our town.

Many years passed, I grew up and went to University. I got mocked and bullied by my classmates, for being 'pathetic and dumb'. I didn't follow the herd and chose civil engineering. Likewise, I graduated with an above-average grade. With limited offers, I returned to my town. The first serious project I got was to inspect their house and check if it was salvageable. The house was dilapidated, and the chimney had caved in. The town had waited for any message from the family and had repeatedly tried to reach out to them. But there was no response from the family and only some burglars had broken into the place to steal anything valuable. I was the first person to legally enter the place. The wooden porch creaked under my foot as I tried to open the door, but it would not budge. I kicked it and it fell down. I covered my face with a handkerchief as the smell of something rotting triggered my sensitive nose. The place was falling apart slowly, as only the furniture and some kitchen appliances were left behind. Moss and God knew only what else was growing here. Cockroaches, lizards, ants and other insects crawled around the place as I turned on my flashlight to inspect the walls and floorboards. Everything was ruined and there seemed to be nothing salvageable. There was a large hole in the roof and I think I could spot a bird's nest there.

The only place left was an iron door.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked, and I opened it as it creaked. I pulled it with my strength and after a few tries, it opened. I went down into the staircase holding onto the rusted railings, careful of the moss; I could not see anything and once again turned my torch. Furthermore, I saw something that I should have not seen. The remnants of my lunch churned in my stomach as I ran out of the house. As I vomited my lunch, I sat on the grass near the house, my back facing the house. I wiped my mouth and clenched my fists. I banged my head on a nearby tree as I wanted to forget, but I couldn't. I called the authorities and let them deal with the hassle. I walked to my flat and lay on my bed. They were stuffing the bodies of various children from both our town and the foster program into the walls and floorboards. Some were hanged like trophies on the walls of the basement with their names engraved next to them. Evelyn was hanged there, and I could recognize the golden ring on her skeleton's finger. The skin had been charred and had rotten so much that mostly the bones were left. I had cried until I became too tired from crying. Days had passed, and the authorities had almost cleaned the mess-up.

I don't know why I am writing this to you all, maybe to get some peace by sharing it with some people who might not mock me for crying, being terrorized and expressing myself. Evelyn got a proper burial on Tuesday and a day before my old friend informed me that the whole class of ours was going to have a reunion in New York. He listed some names and I saw Matthew's name on it. I know he could not warn people about his parents and brother. But, I think the one who silently witnesses the crime and does not have the guts to tell anyone is also guilty. Am I right or wrong? But, I'll let you all know after the reunion.