In a heart-shaped box, a mother keeps her children's teeth.

The old box sits on the antique furniture, away from all the other decorations in the house. This item sits by itself with only it and the rustic dresser being the only decor occupying the nearly empty room.

The house was always quiet, hauntingly so. The air was always accompanied by a chill. Now and then you could hear the older woman talking to someone, but no one throughout the whole neighborhood ever saw anyone come out of that house but the woman, Mrs.Tellar.

The mean old woman muttered a few words to the person sitting across from her. The living room was dimly lit by the lamp next to the wooden sofas. She sat on one while the figure sat on the other.

"My dear, I wonder what we shall do today," she asked.

Her questions went unanswered. There was no one in the room but her. You could not convince the woman of that though. She would promise you that she was seeing her children.

The same children she lost fifty years ago. The very ones whose teeth sit in the lonely box upstairs belong to.