Julian gazed at the house in front of him. The very house which he grew in. The very house that held memories. Some good and mostly bad. It hadn't undergone much changes. There were lots of leaves gathered in the front porch. The window on the upper left had tiny cracks. The painting had peeled off and the wooden door had some holes.

As he walked towards the door, he hoped at least the doorbell was still functioning. As he pressed it and heard a ringing sound within the house, he ...