'My name is Polly Parsons I was twenty six years of age and not any older I would never see how I look when I'll turn twenty seven. My time here has been short, and I was the prettiest one inside this house.
My murder is my story.'

And so the sound of the rain outside hits. The glass of the stainless window as it pelts it with a little trinkled light water.
I sit down next to my desk and working on a page I kept writting down the same thing, that I was prettiest girl that ever lived inside this house.
My time was short lived it seemed like but to sum it up very shortly is that what lives outside is a dark reminder of things that go bad, and so I started to write down my idea story of how I got murdered.
After a long term with writting I step away from it and step out into the hall way, where an irratable silence crept along with a cryptic stillness that poison the air inside the house itself.
I had few of the houses servants to go home for the day and to allow me to walk around the house.
The house that I live is in was my father's house and it was his father's before him. The house was named the parsons family estate when he died from a terrible sickness.
The house was once a plantation home it had over fifty two acres of free land, and still does I fell in love with it when I first saw it.
Outside the rain seems to seep back into the thin gray sky and disapate out, and I walk around the house from the galla. To the stairs all the lights in the house was connected with the new power of the electric light, that extends only half way around the house.
I was pleased when they invented that thomas Edison was his name, and so he came up with it only with a bulb and few wires. He was smart and well minded of a genious of the new industrial evolution.
The day when I got murdered was allowing him inside my house he came to me without a simple light of a greetiful moment of fear though begin to engulf me. He had a hidden face the blackest of eyes, a jig like smile on his narrow high cheek bones, where his pale papermache skin that latched itself over his bones making his masulinatiny very fearful.
He told me to play a game with him a game of which I use to play when I was just a little girl he told me to put a blind fold around my face and cover my eyes. And so I did just that, and so when he did it I was already crying silently on the inside.
And Alas I was murdered, and now here I am stuck inside the very walls that I placed in.


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