MichaelMichael stands under the flickering porch light, his skin a rotting shade of purple. He coughs softly into a stained hand, his shoulders heavy with a lifetime of guilt and pain. He looks right through me like I am just another shadow in the dark, his dull eyes showing no memory of the kid we used to be.ElizabethElizabeth floats near the broken window, her red pigtails frozen in the midnight air. Her metallic, doll-like face twists into a sad little pout as her glowing green eyes scan my face. She whispers a quiet question about whether I have seen a little girl, completely unaware that she is looking at her big brother.The Crying ChildThe youngest brother hides behind a rotting oak tree, clutching a dirty plush bear to his chest. Tears stream down his pale face, and he trembles every time the wind blows through the dead grass. He looks at me with wide, terrified eyes, stepping back into the dark instead of reaching out for safety.WilliamWilliam steps out of the fog in his rusted gold suit, smelling of old iron and dust. His fixed, jagged smile stretches too wide across his pale face, hiding the cruel mind working behind his gaze. He tilts his head like a curious predator inspecting a stray animal, failing to see his own flesh and blood standing tall.Mrs. AftonMother sits on the porch swing that moves with no wind, her form faint and fading like morning mist. Her hands rest flat on her lap, and her face holds the look of someone who gave up on hoping long ago. She turns her head away into the dark, her silent lips not even trying to speak my name.