My dearest Bird. These are likely to be the last words you ever receive from me. I wanted to write everything down and not have them spoken in my voice, words that I would not recognise and you may not have listened to. From the second I met you, I knew you were a fighter. You always have been. I saw it and, even though he would kill to admit it, Bear saw that you were always stronger than us. In spirit as well as stature. I need you to be strong now, Birdy, please. You can curse my name to the heavens, break everything that we ever shared, hate me, oh Bird. I’m sorry. For everything, please believe me. You have brought me so much happiness and I’m so proud to have watched you grow. Look after yourself for me. And however hard it gets, however many times you feel like giving up, you have the two most amazing people watching you for me now. You were the other pillar on which my soul stands, but I am crumbling, and I can’t hold my weight any longer. Stand tall, little bird. I-

The rest of the letter was ineligible due to the flames licking at its corners. The amber glow spiralling towards the tear-stained ink. Memories began to fade as the ink began to sing, words of terrible pain and anguish like an arrow striking the heart.

The dancing flames started unfurling the lies and deceit that hung in the air like kindling, taunting the heat to get closer.

Tik tok.

The tongues were now slithering over the wallpaper, spiteful and writhing, screaming hate at their tormentor.

Tik tok. Tik.

The inferno found the Spinet, where the keys mourned the two boys that would sit and play for hours.

Tik tok, Tik tok.

Snatches of childlike laughter emitted from the uproar. Tears dripped silently down the faces of the portraits adorning the corridors, longing to hear that laughter one last time before time took it from this place. Joy was swallowed by the ebbing and flowing of time, sweeping it out to sea.

Tik, tok. Tik tok. Tik.

Outside this bubble of emotions, the moon stood watching.

The man on the moon had always waited. This house brought him the most souls. One by one. It wrecked him to wait for him. One last soul. Can’t be long now.

Tik.

The grandfather clock’s hands waved its solemn goodbye. Till the next life.

Blood poured down the face of the boy. Hot tears of blood. An outstretched hand clasping the signed letter. An inaudible scream adorning his face before a roof tile slid from the roof.

Tik. Tik. Tik.

Boom.