In the suburbs of Newark, New Jersey, everyone knew each other. All the adults and children who lived here knew this to be pure truth. And they especially knew about what lay in the ruins of the abandoned industrial section of Newark. Standing in the middle of nowhere was the Home’s Heaven, a formerly popular furniture store warehouse. Way back in the early 60’s, this well-known store played host to many eager customers in search of the best home items and decor money could buy.

But the business of the Home’s Heaven was not to last. Later in the hours of closing time, on the night of March 13th, 1965, which everyone thought had been an electrical accident, the store had suddenly burst into searing, crackling flames. What was even more disturbing was that a young five-year old boy had somehow gotten trapped within the deteriorating building and was unable to escape. Naturally, the entire state of New Jersey was bombarded with news reporters from all over the country.

The town was devastated, not to mention the boy’s family. The event had been unimaginable, leaving a deep impression in the hearts of those closest to the boy’s family and friends. Needless to say, the town never was the same again.

After the commotion and attention had passed, the citizens who lived in the suburbs still wondered from time to time: Who and what really caused the disastrous fire which had burned down the Home’s Heaven? Nobody ever really kknew. But one thing the citizens of New Jersey were positive of: The tragic event had been no accident. That was one opinion that everybody considered hard fact.

“Jason? He-llo? You in there?” a voice said suddenly, jerking him out of his thoughts. Jason blinked a couple of times before remembering what was going on around him. “Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. Just thinking about the past,” Jason said, running a hand through his messy hair. Jason Smith was in his twenties, with a slight awkwardness that many found charming. Along with this, he wore a plaid button-up sweatshirt, faded, grass stained blue jeans, leather sandals, and a sleek gold watch. Many of the local girls found him very desirable, and fell over themselves just to get close to him.

“So, what are you doing tonight after work, Jason?” his friend Andrea asked lightly, twirling a lock of frizzy reddish brown hair in between her fingers. Jason thought before answering. “I’m probably going to go visit the Home’s Heaven at about 8:00,” he replied, and a number of gasps were heard. Andrea motioned for him to follow her. Jason blushed and walked toward the front entrance of the diner. When the two had reached out-of-earshot range, she burst out. “The Home’s Heaven? But why? You know how everyone around here feels about that, especially about that little boy…” Andrea trailed off thoughtfully, looking past Jason’s worried and flustered face.

She snapped out of her daze and looked Jason straight in the eyes with a hard determination. “You know as well as I do that the tragedy wasn’t accidental. How could a building just suddenly burst into flames? I designed the blueprints for the Home’s Heaven myself. There’s no way that there was faulty wiring in the system. I’m telling you, whoever and whatever caused that boy’s death will have the police to answer to when they’re caught.”

Andrea Williams was around Jason’s age. She had frizzy, reddish-brown hair that went down halfway behind her back, olive green eyes and freckles that speckled her face. On days like today, Andrea usually wore a tie dye shirt, slightly faded skinny jeans, Vans and leather biker gloves.

“I have to go,” she said suddenly, brushing past Jason without another word. Jason watched her walk away, feeling slightly guilty at having mentioned the Home’s Heaven in front of her. Good going, Jason. You made your own friend upset, he thought angrily to himself. Of all the people who felt emotionally devastated by the tragedy that had occurred in 1965, Andrea was among those who knew and loved the boy’s family: The McTaylors.

“Get a hold of yourself. She’s not the only one who was traumatized,” Jason scolded himself, somewhat half-heartedly. Sighing, he trudged back to the diner parking lot, unaware that someone was watching him from afar. Out of the corner of Jason’s vision, a man dressed in sleek black clothing backed slowly into an alleyway and disappeared from view entirely.

Jason didn’t mind, as he was focused on getting into his car to drive home. Andrea’s not the only one in this town who was negatively affected by the tragedy, Jason thought grimly, inserting his car key into the ignition socket. Feeling unhappy, he shifted the gear into driving and began making his way back home.

The sky had been pleasant only thirty minutes before, but now, as Jason drove along the highway, the clouds looked menacing, ominous shadows following in their wake. Oh, that’s just great. It’s only been thirty minutes since I started driving, and now it’s fixing to rain, he thought dejectedly. Immediately, a bolt of lightning flashed and flickered somewhere in the distance, followed by a boom of thunder.

“I’d better be careful,” Jason said quietly, turning on his windshield wipers just in case. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a black painted car nearly crashed into the back end of Jason’s Ford Torino, and he quickly swerved away from the vehicle, honking his horn angrily. “Watch where you’re going!” Jason called out, his heart beating a mile a minute.

Who was that guy, anyway? Jason wondered, taking a left turn onto another intersection. He quickly dismissed this thought as the lane in front of him turned out to be clogged with afternoon traffic. “Oh, come on! You’ve gotta’ be kidding me!” Jason complained, slowing to a stop. On weekdays, often during a rainstorm, the highways had a tendency to quickly fill up with traffic, and it took hours at a time to break free of the near-motionless road flow, making it a hassle just to get to a certain destination.

I’d better get comfortable here. It’s going to be a while before I reach home, Jason thought to himself, sighing. “Time for some radio,” he said aloud, flipping the switch to turn on the car radio. A radio announcer’s voice filled the car: “You’re listening to WDEL-FM, your local news station in Canton, New Jersey!” The voice was immediately replaced by another, this one female. “This is WDEL-FM Radio Station. I’m your host, Nicole Samson. Today’s weather: Overcast. More waves of rain are heading here as I speak. Be careful on the roads and highways, folks. Trust me, I’m talking zero sight on the road ahead if you’re driving home. Remember-” the voice was cut off by Jason switching stations. “How about some music instead?” Jason said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to an imaginary beat, squinting his eyes to see what was in front of him. The big, massive wheeled truck in front of Jason’s car was rudely belching dark exhaust fumes at his windshield, making it impossible to see, on top of the pounding raindrops falling from above.

Jason had finally had enough. Rolling down his driver side window, he craned his neck outside and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come on! I need to get home!” The towering truck simply puffed more foul smoke at him, forcing Jason to quickly roll up the window in response. The nerve of him! Jason thought affronted, frowning at the rudeness the truck’s driver had shown him.

Just as he was going to switch on some music, a window of opportunity revealed itself to him. Aha…There’s my way out of this heavy traffic! Checking his rearview mirror to make sure nobody was watching, Jason slowly turned the steering wheel to the right, the blinkers flickering on and off. After he’d broken free from the rigid traffic flow, Jason let out a sigh of relief. “About time, too,” he said to himself, driving along an empty road leading home.

It was 7:49 when Jason pulled into his part of the neighborhood. Almost time to go to the Home’s Heaven, he thought as a reminder, making a right turn onto Cherrytree Street. Pulling into his driveway, Jason turned the windshield wipers off once more, getting out of the driver seat. By now, the rainstorm had lessened to a pleasant mist, filling Jason with a sense of liberating gratitude.

“Home sweet home,” Jason murmured quietly, unlocking the front door of his home. The living room was just as he’d left it earlier that day, the curtains and blinds drawn shut so nobody could peek inside while he was gone. The only thing out of place, however, was a single pair of curtains lying in a wrinkled pile on the living room floor. “Huh? How did that-” Jason started, crouching down beside the disturbance. Did someone break into the house?

Suddenly, the house phone started to ring. “Who could be calling this late?” he asked, standing up to answer. “Hello? This is the Smith residence. May I ask who’s calling?” Jason said into the receiver. An eerie whispering filled the other end of the call, sending shivers down his spine. “Stop that, whoever you are. This better not be a prank call!” he warned, half tempted to notify the sheriff’s department. The whispering stopped, then a voice murmured back to him: Help….Help me…please. “Hello?” Jason said again, this time feeling an odd coldness that seemed to emanate from the phone.

“I-I’ll call back to you later. Goodbye,” Jason replied, ending the call. That…was super unsettling, he thought to himself, the hair standing up on the back of his neck. Taking a few breaths, Jason looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was now 8:00 pm. “Time to go visit the Home’s Heaven,” he said to himself, slipping on a jacket. Jason looked at the rumpled pile of curtains one last time before heading out the door.

The headlights of his Ford blinked twice in succession when he inserted the car keys, the motor rumbling to life. Jason buckled up and straightened the front view mirrors before backing out of his driveway. It’s too quiet out here. It’s kinda’ creepy, he thought, unsettled. “Get it together, Jason.” Out of the corner of his eye, a black car lurked in the shadows, the full moon reflected on its opaque windshield.

“Is that car following me?” Jason wondered, taking a right onto Cornerview Lane. He decided some jazz would ease his worry, and switched on the car radio. This is Newark, New Jersey’s top Jazz Station: 88.3 FM WBGO. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the greatest hits, the radio announcer’s voice said soothingly. This was followed by a smooth melody played with a saxophone. Jason sighed contentedly, slowing down a bit.

Rolling down the driver side window, Jason enjoyed the pleasantly cool air breezing past him. A warning beep sounded. Time to get a refill, he thought, pulling into the gas station. There was a bell ringing as Jason pulled up beside a gas tank. “Leaded or unleaded?” the gas station attendant asked, holding a gas pump. “Unleaded, please,” Jason answered, moving the gear shift into the STOP position.

The woman inserted the pump into the refill socket, while Jason tapped his fingers patiently to a mental rendition of his favorite song. A bell rang, and the attendant held out an oily work glove. “Cash or credit?” she asked. In return, Jason removed thirty-five cents from his wallet and gave the money to the woman.

“Have a good evening, sir,” she told him, taking the gas pump out. “You too.” With more tapping, Jason drove forward and left the gas station. In the front view mirror, he saw a sleek, reflective black car following close behind him. Him again? What is with this guy? Why’s he following me? Jason thought to himself, picking up speed. The black car did also.

Feeling increasingly nervous, Jason decided to pull over. Once he was on the side of the road, Jason got out of the car and waited for the mysterious black car to come to a stop. The driver side window of the sleek car rolled down, revealing a man with black shades, a black hat, and a black suit and tie.

“Hey. What’s going on here? It seems like you’re following me. Is there something you need from me?” Jason said, trying to sound casual. The mysterious man gestured for him to back up a little. Jason understood, stepping back.