July 21. Kyle does not leave his room. Only screams and laughter can be heard though the muffles of the basement door. Isolated in his own thoughts, we choose to let him be, undisturbed.

Five days earlier, 7:00 am, July 16, Tracey Thomas who is Kyle’s foster mom, who’s quite the morning person, is up as usual. Lethargically she steps towards the kitchen, coffee pot in hand. “Smash”, in a violent drop the pot hits the stone tiles of the kitchen floor; nothing could have prepared her for this. “Rob I need you in the kitchen, please hurry” Tracey says in a shy frightened tone, she repeats herself “please hurry” in which Rob Who is Kyle’s foster dad replies “What is it” as he rushes to the kitchen at a speedy pace. Tracey and Rob stare down into the kitchen sink. Only these words escaped his mouth “don’t call a Plummer, I’ll handle this”. A cat laid bloody and dismembered, mummified in its own blood and fur. Turn apart, but still recognizable as the neighbor’s cat. She laid in the sink, still much hidden in the kitchen garbage disposal.

Shocked, and deeply disturbed they stood shaken by the uncomfortable scene that suddenly erupted. Either Tracey or Rob took action towards the broken coffee pot, or sink. They left the mess undisturbed. Now running late, both Rob and Tracey Bus to Work, due to their recently broke down Toyota Camry. Tracey arrives to her job as a nurse at children’s hospital; she is unable to concentrate all day. “It was Always reliable” Rob mumbled to him self on the crowded, early morning bus ride. Back at home, Kyle sat in his basement suite, which he is lucky to have. In which he sat, parents gone, laughing and crying. Upon his parents return Kyle is quite, every thing in order but the mess in the kitchen. Now worn out by their mornings plus rush hour buss rides, Kyle’s foster parent’s retreat to their top floor room after dinner.

The next day July 17, Kyle’s parents wake up now only slightly more prepared for this mornings fiasco. Kyle’s mom, caffeine deprived wanders down stairs only to find a trail of backwards steps, marked in blood leading to Kyle’s room. Tracey rushes into Kyle’s room while yowling for Rob to come. Rob Rushes, descending down the stairs. All is silent, the Turing of the doorknob echo’s. Tracey tightly grabs Rob’s hand as they look at Kyle. The foot of his bed soaked red with blood. Kyle Now woken seems to be just as confused and worried as his parents. Kyle whimpers “Tracey, Rob I’m Scared”. Tracey inspects Kyle’s feet, lacerations deep, a large piece of glass pronounced in Kyle’s foot read “--2 cups”. Glass from the Earlier dropped coffee pot. Rob, who is scared, tries to make sense of it all. He Firmly asks Kyle if he thinks he may of sleep walked. Kyle replies tears flowing “I don’t know”. Tracey takes Kyle to the washroom to aid to Kyle’s feet. She chooses to take care of Kyle’s injuries herself, than bring her son to her work place.

Tracey and Robs both call in work sick, leaving almost identical phone calls. Now free to handle the confusion, Rob turns his attention towards the sink. Now in four garage bags laid the tortured soul. The glass swept and the blood stains diminishing, being soaked and scrubbed with cold water. Tracey diligently works in the kitchen, as she prepares a family dinner. Roasted Chicken, stir fried beans and carrots with a rustic mashed potatoes. They sit down at the table that is seated for three. An uncomfortable silence is solved by Tracey, she asks Kyle “Has any thing been bothering you lately?” Kyle murmurs, “No every thing is fine”. As dinner comes to an end Kyle is the first to leave, Tracy far too exhausted to do the dished, leaves it the night.

July 18, Tracey is preparing breakfast for Rob, Kyle and her self. Rob is soon off for work. Tracey decides that she needs to take some time away to relax, so she stays home for today. While at home she rests, as Kyle draws in his room. Rob much latter arrives home, with Chinese take-out. After dinner Rob grabs the loan fountain cookie, Cracks it, it reads, “instead of worrying and agonizing, move ahead constructively”. Rob and Tracey before bed say, “good night, love you” to Kyle.

July 19, Rob wakes up early, he heads to the kitchen and pulls out the old French press, He prepares a hot cup of coffee for Tracey. As he reaches into the fridge to grab the cream, Rob Stops in his tracks. He plucks off a picture, held on to the face of the fridge with a few kitchen magnets. Chills traveled down the length of his spine, his mind racing with new belief, acknowledgment that his son killed the cat. The drawing displayed the neighbor’s cat, and two tall figures dressed in all black. Drawn with a bitter colour pallet, made with the same markers he bought Kyle not to long ago. His denial now shifts; he concedes that his son killed the cat. He neatly folds the drawing and places it in his back pocket. He Brings Tracey a cup of coffee, as he passes the cup to her, he decides not to show her the drawing. He says, “Tracey, lets both go back to work and get over what has happened, its over, every thing is ok now”. Tracey replies “yes, but I want to get the Nanny in today, I don’t want to leave Kyle home alone after what has happened.”

When they return from work the nanny is nowhere to be seen, we conclude that she left early. We give her a call but there was no answer. Kyle is still in his room. We both remember how much he loved going outside as a younger kid. Tracey and Rob once again with take-out for dinner. Not Chinese food but Antonio’s, Kyle’s favorite meal. After dinner Rob goes straight to bed, so did Tracey, neither of them have been so spent in their lives.

July 20, Tracey is woken up by what sounds like crying, oddly enough it is followed by laughter. She wakes Ron, then seconds latter they both rush to Kyle’s room. Rob opens the door. Tracey rushes in as Rob follows behind. There’s Kyle sitting in his chair, surrounded by his drawings, the walls covered in his evil illustrations. The Nanny lying diseased, cold and crimson, they are now beside oneself. Frightened into a state of paranoia and mixed thoughts. Rob decides this is to much as he firmly grips Tracey hand and leaves the room with haste. Locking the door behind him. He decides to show Tracey the drawing; he quickly goes up stairs and grabs it out of his pocket. The picture more clear than ever, but unlike before there is a bloody handprint on the back of the sheet. Strikingly the handprint is far too large to be Kyle’s. Tracey and rob lock and board shut the basement suites door, Kyle still inside. It is the only room in the house without windows or an exit. The one sole exit blocked. Tracey and Rob retire to their room, their door locked as well.

July 21, again woken by crying and laughter they choose to let Kyle be. For only brief moments they open the door, they see Kyle feeding on the blood soaked body of their Nanny. “Knock, knock” came from the front door, slowly peaking to see who’s there, they see no one. Suddenly a letter slips through from under the door. Rob backs up from the door; he crouches down and reaches to retrieve the mysterious unmarked envelope. In side is a picture of Kyle and his biological parents; they are tall dressed in all black. They are comparable to the drawing’s tall figures. Inside was also a letter, nothing more, the letter read.

“To whom I am speaking to, give back what’s ours. We have been looking, searching, but we have found. The boy you have named Kyle is not yours. We have visited you many times, watched Kyle grow up. We are among you. Leave your home at once.”

Rob and Tracey Quickly pack, only bringing the most necessary items. Kyle still locked in his room. They leave in a taxi to Coleman’s Hotel. There they spend the night.
Nightmares plague both Tracey and Rob, their bodies at rest, their minds at dismay.

July 22, 3am, a rattle at the door wakes both Tracey and Rob. “Creak” the door is opened. Rob and Tracey tightly grip each other, faces white from fear as they scramble to turn on the side table’s lamp. Tracey and Robs screams almost in harmony. “Click” the side table’s lamp now on. There was Kyle, standing at the foot of the bed, blood drenched and reeking of death. Kyle, not looking like himself.