The house stood amongst the trees like an open sore.

A condemned heap of lumber and tattered shingles that was dwarfed by the forests surrounding it.

The structure begged to be demolished, and the wildlife looked ready to reclaim it in a moment's notice. The longer I looked at it, the more I wondered if I was at the wrong address.

My watch beeped and I lowered the binoculars feeling the chilly air nip at the back of my neck. It just turned 10 o'clock, but lying in the weeds it felt like 3

of the morning. The moon couldn't even seem to get a word in through the clouds, and the house itself seemed to radiate its own perpetual darkness.

Even from across the street the house felt wrong.

I got off my stomach and crouched in the grass chewing my lip. My gut urged me to go home

when I thought of my car parked in the agricultural road about a hundred yards away.

I could just leave and forget about this place.

Forget it even existed.

Just the thought of leaving made me feel guilty and I couldn't help but dig my phone out of my pocket.

I thought of Teddy. I started to sweat.

I read the text again for the thousandth time heading there now sure you haven't

changed your mind. Teddy was my younger brother. We didn't have the best childhood growing up. Between

our father being in and out of prison and our mother working double shifts, we were left

to our own devices the majority of the time.

It was something that made a stray from the path of normal blue-collar children.

With my mother struggling to make ends meet the continuous lack of money, it was easy to pick

us out from the other kids at school, something that would eventually

get us into constant trouble in years of bullying, being outcasts.

Despite the hardship, Teddy and I found ways to ease our path through a life where money had the final say.

We started taking it whenever we could.

...