Young Melody ran into a room with a large squared window frame. The ceiling was far away from the reach of average-height basketball players.

A perfect wooden bed-stead stood beautifully on the right corner of the room. The bedroom looked like a large studio. Moss grew silently at the corners of the four-walls of wood.

Melody forced the old windows open. A very cool breeze swept through the room and brushed the young one's cherry cheeks. Her pink jacket gave her warmth.

The cool breeze caused a bit of a chill on her jaws, but she smiled instead. Melody took in a deep breath and the smell of petrichor embraced her. It was a captivating mix of the earth's fresh soil by every grain beneath and droplets of water from grey clouds above.

"Well?" Alice asked, with crossed arms and legs as she stood at the door of what had become her daughter's new room.

"I love it. I love it mommy. I love, love, love it! Don't we Miss Pink? Yes we do." Melody skipped around the room in excitement.

Alice looked at her child and could not help but smile. She wished the little angel would remain same and never grow up like her son George did.

"You really like it huh?"

"Mommy, are you joking? I love it. It's so different from the room I had in our house at Stockon Street. I hated that room. It was so small. Pink didn't have her bed and the worst part was I had to share the room with George, who disturbed my beauty sleep with his awful laughter. He's such a jerk."

"Language young lady!" Alice scolded her daughter.

"I'm sorry mommy but you and I both know he is a j-word." Melody pouted.

Alice laughed.

"Alright then, since you love this room so much, it's yours...But not until you pack your boxes up here."

"Yay!!" Melody jumped and hugged her mother.

"Okay! Okay! I'm tired honey. How about we go get those boxes?"

"Boxes! Boxes! Get the boxes! Come on Poodle Pink!" Melody ran out of the room. Her little pet ran after her.

Alice smiled but once her daughter was gone, the joyful arch on her face became a straight line. A chill filled the air in the room. Alice wrapped her hands around her body. It did nothing to warm her up.

She felt a cold breeze stroll down her spine as she stared into the purple darkness beyond the large window. Her teeth shivered for a while.

"Mom!!" George screamed.

Alice jumped.

"George? George, are you okay? George?" she screamed while her heels made loud thuds on wooden floor as she ran to her son's location.

Alice finally got to the origin of George's voice.

He stood in the middle of a small room with a sloped ceiling. There was a window as well but it was not as large as the one in Melody's new room. Spider webs floated from joint to joint in the room. An average sized bed stead stood directly under the slopped ceiling. Torn magazine covers of bikini-dressed ladies were pasted on a wall opposite the slope.

"Mum! What the hell?! I hate this room!" George yelled, completely ignorant of the loud pants of his mother.

Alice tried to catch her breath. She looked around the room. It had a good feel to it. It felt safer than Melody's room. She was not quite sure why but she liked this room. Her gaze shifted to the old posters on the wooden walls.

"Well, it's a typical boy's room." Alice said.

"Yeah right, a bunch of almost nude ladies on my wall, makes my life perfect." George sighed.

"The pictures of almost nude ladies is something you've attached yourself to. Looking at them may be healthy on my part, but what comes after...not so much."

"What are you talking about mum?"

"George I saw the magazines under your bed back at San Francisco. Who do you think cleaned up your room before you got back from school?"

George's eyes grew wide by surprise.

"Mum...I...you...you're not supposed to go through my stuff...you...I..." the poor teen stuttered.

"Never mind that Alice... He's a man now..." Richard said.

He stood at the door. A huge smile slowly took its place on his face, at the sight of the posters on the wall of the room.

"Men! ugh!" Alice rolled her eyes.

After a few seconds of silence, George cleared his throat. Richard's eyes moved from the posters to his son.

"Dad since I'm a man now, here's my decision; I don't want this room."

"Yeah you may call yourself a man but as long as you live under my roof, you're still a kid. My kid! And you're going to play by my rules!" Richard told his son.

"There are four rooms in this huge woody world. You and mum have a room, Melody has a room, and now there's two left. I don't want this so that leaves a spare room. Which means I can get the empty bedroom then, can't I?"

"No you can't. It's for Todd."

"Todd? But he isn't even here to claim the room." George whined.

"I've claimed it on his behalf." Richard smiled.

"That isn't fair dad."

"Life isn't fair son but you know what is? Bam!!" Richard proudly touched the switch in George's room and two light bulbs in the room sent bright rays to every corner of the four-walled cube.

The room looked better, safer, warm.

"How'd you do it?" Alice asked her husband.

"The main switch for electricity is in the basement. I just gave some finishing touch to several wires, when I went down there to keep the groceries and the rest of the boxes. I thought I heard noises down there but it's fine. I must be tired." Richie said, shoulders high, chest out.

"You do look tired." Alice patted her husband's face.

"I'm still talking here. Hello!" George whined still.

"Mommy I want light in my room too. I want my room to look pretty." Little Melody said at the door of George's room.

"Everyone's going to get light, hot water and all the heaters would be working too. I should go pack the rest stuff from the car so we can call it a day. " Richard said. His words were followed by a loud yawn.

"I'll help." Alice offered and so did her daughter.

George followed them and whined the more.

Soon a lot of things were out of boxes.

The Beckhams gathered together in the large living room and just in front of a perfect fire place while cuddled up under one big blanket, they bid the day goodbye.

Birds chirped loudly around the cabin and the sounds of plates, whistling of kettles and the thuds of many feet running around greeted the morn.

The Beckhams made themselves comfortable in the dining room. It was a small pretty room at the far end of the large living room. A long mahogany table stood with beauty in the middle of the room and chairs made from both cane and leather rallied around the table.

The true beauty of the large living room could also be seen from the dining table.

Everything was assembled in royal perfection and the interior décor of wood from Cyprus, Cedar, Cherry and Mahogany trees could be seen.

Heads of deer, bearing majestic antlers were on frames above the fire place. White leather chairs which had been moved from the Beckham's home about a week ago brought life to the siting room.

Gold, silver and metallic linings gave everything a finishing touch and so did the black oil paint on the flower framed fire place.

The kitchen was also an art exhibition of wood but Alice had already called on handy men to give it a modern glow.

Alice had set out plates on the mahogany table. It was time for breakfast.

"I love my room so much." Melody said, all smiles that morning.

"We've heard that a thousand times Mel." Jealous George complained.

"I know but I do like it. When I look out my window, all I see is flowers in a garden and birds. Once I put up my curtain and pink wall paper and my pink drawers, I'd be a true princess."

"Well I look out MY window and I see the dirty pool which I'm sure I'll be told to clean." George complained.

"You set the trap for yourself young man. I didn't think of that but thank you for bringing it up. You'll get to your first chore at the cabin, after breakfast." Richard said with a smile.

Everyone at the table laughed. Everyone but George.

"I'll be back. The cereals are at the basement." Alice excused herself.

"So sonny, do you love your room?" Richard asked the only one who pouted at the table.

"I...don't. It sucks dad."

"Well you've got to endure. Some people don't have a roof over their heads George."

"But I'm not some people I'm..."

"Richie what's with the cereal boxes?!" Alice interrupted the father-son conversation.

"What's with the cereal boxes Alice?"

Alice placed a carton of cereals on the table.

All boxes were ripped apart and emptied. Some were half full. Different shapes, sizes and colours of playful morning meal were scattered in the carton.

"Could be rats." Richard said.

"Rats would tear a hole in one or two boxes Richard. Whatever this was, it tore the boxes apart!"

"I'll get to it. We can eat something else Alice. Don't make this a big deal."

"It is a big deal Richard!"

"I told you this place was stupid!" George yelled.

"Shut the hell up boy!" Richard raised his voice.

"But this is stupid!" Alice said.

"So you support his nonsense? Do you Alice? "

"No Richard I'm just saying..."

"Dad she didn't do anything... But this place is really..."

In the midst of the pandemonium, Melody began to walk out of the living room.

"Poodles? Where's Poodles?" The little one mumbled as she walked.

Words flew from mouths in loud tones and noise filled the cabin.

After a few minutes, everyone in the living room went silent at the sound of a loud scream.

"Mel?! " Alice called and ran out of the room in haste. They all did.

A few minutes had gone by and little Melody was found in front of the basement. Tears ran down her cheeks. Her hands were covered in blood.

"Oh my God! Melody! " Alice screamed at the site of her daughter's bloody hands.

She ran towards the little one and took the child's hands in hers. Alice wiped Melody's hands and gave a sigh of relief. It was not her child's blood but whose?

"Poodles... Poodles..." Melody whimpered clear words.

Alice looked behind her daughter and fear ceased her heart for a second.

Poodles lay on the floor dead. The dog's head was a few steps away from it's body and so were it's limbs. Shears kissed by red lay beside the dead dog's head. Blood crawled thick and red on the floor in spill, splatter and drops.

"What the fuck!! " George screamed.

Alice heard her son's words but she was too paralyzed by fear to move, let alone correct her son's manner of speech.

All she did was stare into the darkness of the basement and weep.