Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange lane.


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The existence of feral children raises terrible questions concerning the capacity of people to raise their young. Going seemingly against the very maternal instinct that is supposedly built into us, feral children are those kids whose upbringing was either deeply neglected, or whose raising was done by someone other than a human being. There are many reports of these, some fictitious and some true. However, despite the research that has been done, it has been considered on the whole to be a rare phenomenon. So when I discovered that such a case had occurred on Wellington Street, my natural inclination was to assume that it was merely a legend. I was wrong to assume this, just as much as I was wrong to hope that this would not end up being as disturbing as it managed to be.

The events occurred in yet another of the houses that line the street. However, the building itself no longer exists there, having been torn down years ago. The piece of land on which it sat is now vacant, a faded wooden fence being the only part of the original property that still survives. Questions still remain concerning the tearing down of the home, since by all accounts it had been in remarkable condition, and had several parties interested in purchasing the land, even after knowledge of the deaths within the home became public.

The owner of the home had been a single woman, who had confided with others a desire to one day have children. However, for one reason or another she was never able to find someone, and so, much of her time was spent alone. She had been supported by a group of wealthy relatives, which allowed her to spend much of her time gardening. Her garden was one of the prizes of the neighborhood, and it was not uncommon for people to ask her for advice concerning their own gardens.

When she was not gardening, she would on occasion hold parties in her home for her neighbors and friends. She was described as being a wonderful host, if not a little too flirtatious with the male company. Her parties would often go long into the night, and it was considered to be well worth attending. She seemed by all accounts to be caring woman, leaving many to wonder what caused her to be alone.

During one of the parties, the festivities were interrupted when one of the guests began to complain about a noise coming from upstairs. He said it sounded like scratching. The woman passed it off as some animal in the attic, and vowed that she would get it checked out.

A Halloween Story

On Sara Alina

It has come and gone! Halloween was always one of my favorite occasions when I was a kid. I loved, and still love, to dress up as something unusual. But trick or treating was never my favorite. I would very rarely go trick or treating. I used to set up pranks in front of my house to scare others, that is my the real pleasure! So don’t thinking about coming by my house without getting scared!

Here is a Halloween story that actually scares me….

“The reports had been on the radio all day, though she hadn’t paid much attention to them. Some crazy man had escaped from the state asylum. They were calling him the Hook Man since he had lost his right arm and had it replaced with a hook. He was a killer, and everyone in the region was warned to keep watch and report anything suspicious. But this didn’t interest her. She was more worried about what to wear on her date.After several consultation calls with friends, she chose a blue outfit in the very latest style and was ready and waiting on the porch when her boyfriend came to pick her up in his car. They went to a drive-in movie with another couple, then dropped them off and went parking in the local lover’s lane. The blue outfit was a hit, and she cuddled close to her boyfriend as they kissed to the sound of romantic music on the radio.Then the announcer came on and repeated the warning she had heard that afternoon. An insane killer with a hook in place of his right hand was loose in the area. Suddenly, the dark, moonless night didn’t seem so romantic to her. The lover’s lane was secluded and off the beaten track. A perfect spot for a deranged mad-man to lurk, she thought, pushing her amorous boyfriend away.”Maybe we should get out of here,” she said. “That Hook Man sounds dangerous.”"Awe, c’mon babe, it’s nothing,” her boyfriend said, trying to get in another kiss. She pushed him away again.”No, really. We’re all alone out here. I’m scared,” she said.They argued for a moment. Then the car shook a bit, as if something…or someone…had touched it. She gave a shriek and said: “Get us out of here now!”"Jeeze,” her boyfriend said in disgust, but he turned the key and went roaring out of the lover’s lane with a screeching of his tires.They drove home in stony silence, and when they pulled into her driveway, he refused to help her out of the car. He was being so unreasonable, she fumed to herself. She opened the door indignantly and stepped into her driveway with her chin up and her lips set. Whirling around, she slammed the door as hard as she could. And then she screamed.Her boyfriend leapt out of the car and caught her in his arms. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he shouted. Then he saw it. A bloody hook hung from the handle of the passenger-side door.”

Happy Halloween

- Love Sara Alina

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