Aiden’s Point of View
. I sat down at the edge of the bed and picked up a music box on the side table. It’s in a shape of a piano. I gently winded it up and then listened to music it played.
“Frere Jacques, frere Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?”
It’s like my Mom’s voice is singing the lyrics to the lullaby the music box is playing. I returned the music box on the side table as soon as it stopped playing that familiar melody. It’s been quite a while since I start avoiding going home to this house. It’s not just because I don’t get along with some of the people here but because of the place itself.
This is where I and my Mom started to have our secret world. We shared wonderful memories together. We used to hang out in the piano room where she taught me how to play it. Since she
