This story will eventually be M rated, but they are only little kids right now. Give it a few chapters... HaHa I love you all! I hope you enjoy my new story! :)

It was June 5th, 1983.

It was unusually hot in Los Angeles, California this month. Every house on Westerchester Place had every window open in the hopes of having a strong breeze run through the house. Air conditioning units were not made to withstand this amount of heat. The men in the homes would walk around without shirts on, and many of the women would have on shorts and midriff shirts. If one looked into any window, they would find the adults constantly fanning themselves. The children would most likely be outside playing with the watering hose or large buckets of water. Everything about the street and the houses was completely normal, or so it seemed from the outside view.

The Langdon family was one of the well known families on Westchester Place. They were well known because they lived in the murder house. The house was given this name when the first owners met their untimely deaths. There were many rumors that went around about the ghosts haunting the house.

Constance Langdon was the lady of the house, and she did not believe a word of the rumors. Her house was beautiful, and there was nothing wrong with it. Constance was a clever and charismatic woman. To others, she was a doting mother and wife. She seemed to have only love in her heart. Only the inhabitants of the Murder House knew the truth about Constance.

"Tate! Get your ungrateful ass down here this instant and help me with your brother and sister!" Constance called up the stairs at her youngest son.

She walked back into the dining room and tried to get all of her children to sit down at the table. Her oldest daughter Addie only needed to be told a few times to sit down before she did what her mother wanted. Addie had Down's syndrome, but she was very smart and obedient to her mother's wishes. Beau was the middle child and the biggest handful. There were many things about Beau that made him difficult to manage, but he had the biggest heart out of anyone in the Langdon family. Constance had to tie Beau into a special chair for him to be able to sit at the table. Tate and Lilly were the youngest children in the family, at age 6. They were identical twins, but had polar opposite personalities. Lilly was outgoing and wild. Tate was shy and kept to himself. Constance was very proud about her twins and would brag about them to anyone that would listen. They were her perfect babies.

Tate came walking into the dining room with a scowl on his little face. Constance would swear that the scowl had become a permanent feature on her son's face. The young boy was definitely a sight. He had insisted on dressing himself that morning. He had gone through all of his clothes until he found a pair of black shorts, a black t-shirt, and black socks. He had light blonde hair that was styled into a messy bowl cut. Constance had been begging Tate for weeks to let her cut his hair, but he would run away whenever she came never him with the scissors.

"Oh there you are, Tate. Help your sister set the table." Constance handed Tate a set of silverware before walking to the kitchen. "God damn that whore and my pitiful excuse for a husband. How am I supposed to cook and take care of four children on my own?" She grumbled under her breath. When she walked back into the dining room with the last dish of food, she counted how many places where set at the table. There were six places total.

"Oh no. Take one of those settings away. There will only be five of us tonight." Constance moved to sit at her place at the table. She met Tate's confused eyes.

"What about daddy?"

"Eat your supper, Tate. It is going to get cold." Constance said in the hopes to avoid her son's question.

Tate slammed his fist down on the table, making the other children jump. "No! Where is daddy?"

Constance straightened her back and glared at her son. "Do not speak to me in such a tone. I am your mother. You do as I say." Tate scowled at his mother and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine! If you are not going to eat, you will go to bed hungry." Constance stood up from her chair and grabbed Tate roughly by the arm. She dragged him up the stairs and flung him into his bedroom, locking the door from the outside.

"I hate you!" Tate screamed from the other side of the door.

Constance rested her hands on the door and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before she went back into the dining room.

…

Tate had been sitting on the floor of his bedroom for over an hour, staying completely still. This was something that he had been doing a lot recently. He would sit on his floor and listen to the voices and sounds that paraded around his room. Some of the voices were nice and loving, like Nora's. Nora saved Tate a few days ago from the monster in the basement. Now that Tate knew who she was, she would come visit him in his room every day. He told her every time that she was holding him in her arms that she was his real mommy. Nora would just smile with tear filled eyes and tell Tate that she loved him.

Not all of the voices were nice like Nora's. Some of them were mean and would whisper awful things into Tate's ears. They would tell him to do horrible things to his mother and siblings. When the voices became too much and began to scare him, he would close his eyes and whisper "Go away". Those words kept the voices away for a little while, but they always returned.

The voices were being nice to Tate today because Nora was in the room with him. She was sitting next to him, being completely still. They both were just enjoying the other's presence. Tate was the first to move when he heard the sound of a large truck rolling down the street. That was a rare occurrence in this quiet neighborhood. He ran to the window to see what was happening, and Nora followed right behind him.

"What's going on, Momma?" Tate had started calling Nora "momma" whenever he was around her. She did not correct the boy because she loved having someone refer to her as a mother. That had always been her dream.

Nora placed her hand on Tate's shoulder. "It looks like there is a new family moving in across the street." Tate's eyes were quickly scanning over the scene in front of him. There was a man and woman that were unloading boxes from the large truck. Tate could also see some furniture sitting on the front lawn.

"Look there, sweet child." Nora whispered to Tate, and his eyes followed where her finger was pointing. He was looking at a small girl. She was tiny. She had long blonde hair that was tied back into pigtails. She had on a floral dress and sock. No shoes. She was sitting on the sidewalk, watching her parents unload the truck.

"Isn't she a beautiful girl?" Nora spoke quietly.

"Yea…" Tate's voice sounded as if he was in a dream. He could not stop staring at the girl. He instantly felt drawn to her. He wanted to run outside and talk to her. He was lost in thought when her eyes locked on to his. He gasped and quickly ducked under the window.

Nora stood there laughing at the boy. "You like that girl. I can tell. Maybe you can finally make a real friend and spend time away from this dark house. Wouldn't that be nice, Tate?" She crouched down in front of him and scooped him up in her arms.

Tate smiled at the woman, having never felt more loved than he did by Nora. "It would be fun to have another friend." Nora smiled at Tate and kissed him on the nose.

"How about I go downstairs and steal you some food?"

Tate nodded his head. When Nora left the room, Tate ran back to his window. He frowned when he saw that the girl was no longer on the sidewalk. He walked over to his bed and climbed into it. He could feel the voices starting to enter the room, and he closed his eyes tightly.

"Go away."

Awe, isn't little Tate the cutest thing in the world? He will get to meet miss Violet in the next chapter. Prepare for cuteness overload!