The House in the Middle of the Street

There once was a house and it sat in the middle of a simple and quaint treelined street. A beautiful woman named Rebecca lived in this house with her faithfully devoted husband and their new born daughter. They were happy and they were proud. The house had originally belonged to a Great Great Aunt of Rebecca's named Minerva. She lived in the house all the days of her life and she died there, on the very last night of the year. In her final earthly wishes, Minerva bequeath the house to her next of kin and all of its belongings, including a golden sealed letter reading "Instruction for the Keeper of the House," to be given to whomever took legal ownership of the house. None of her next of kin came forward to claim the house. Some neighbors speculated that the relatives passed on such a beautiful home because of the rumored hauntings attached to it; the wild sobs of a young woman heard through the winter winds as the year closed, coupled by a sturdy knocking at the front door that emanated onto the street. The house sat and sat, empty until the law firm handling Minerva's estate located Rebecca as being the next in the family line to inherit the house and all its belongings, if she so wanted. Rebecca and her husband were thrilled and received the house gratefully. This stroke of luck came at just the right time in their lives as they were starting a family. With the arrival of Autumn, Rebecca and her husband moved into the house welcoming this new chapter in their lives, on this street and in this house. It was the house of their dreams. As the last leaves of Autumn blew out, in came the arrival of their first child, their daughter was born. On the very last day of the year, Rebecca prepared a "special" bread for her family's first New Year's Eve together. As she opened the kitchen window to let in the cool winter breeze, she heard a sturdy knocking at their front door. She peeped out the window and saw two children standing there, a boy and a girl.