Laura Elizabeth was born into a family whose entire existence appeared to be centered around the goal of raising a family. They got engaged shortly after they began dating. Then they swiftly had a child after getting married.
Her father moved her and her mother to the southern belt of their quiet little state as soon as his control appeared threatened by the in laws. It became clear that distancing their child from her grandparents was the only way to ensure his final say about her upbringing.
Landing a job as a salesman allowed for a smooth transfer into a different market. Aunt and cousin nearby, Laura was not meant to grow up lonely. This did not mean she didn’t, in fact, do exactly that.
This solitude and isolation has proven quite useful in Laura’s later years as a writer. As a child though, these benefits could not be detected.
Laura’s mother had always wanted to be a mother. She dated a wild guy for a few years and got her heart broken into pieces and scattered across a dirt floor where they were later ran over by a freight train.
This lead her to choose the safe path in the future. That’s exactly what she did when she met Laura’s Father. He was safe.
He chased her around every which way while leaping through hoops and making an overall ass of himself. Father was always coming around to help mother with her mother.
He’d spend his evenings wasted at Mothers house. She’d kick him out until caving to his charms while he serenaded her through her bedroom window fan. Apparently sound effects really did it for her back then.
As a child Laura spent much more time with her imagination than she did with actual people. Picking lilacs from their bush out back, Laura would pretend the flowers were meant for her fairy princess crown as she wove them together. If only the thirty year old Laura could find such simple joys.
Her mother was always inside busying herself with the household chores. Maintaining a clean house, keeping up with the laundry, and having dinner on the table for her husbands arrival were always her top priorities.
These priorities swiftly shifted when salesmanship stopped bringing home the goods. Mother took a job at a daycare center while they both picked up a paper route. Mother couldn’t decide if she hated this, or borrowing money from relatives worse.
The stress began to show whenever Laura did something to her mothers disliking. Patience and understanding were now replaced with hatred and utter disgust. These feeling would soon be replaced with sheer fear.
Laura Elizabeth was four years old when her mother became pregnant with a son. She would be five years old and headed off to her first day of kindergarten when Brother was brought home from the hospital.
Her mother’s pregnancy seemed to bring the house back to life. It was as if it had been dormant for years and had quite a lot to say. The houses first act of communication was to shoot the toaster through the window of the screen door one morning at breakfast.
Laura was a bit to young to remember much, but she always loved hearing her father tell the stories of their haunted house. He claimed multiple encounters with a strange voice. Including a particularly disturbing one involving not only the voice, but a battle with control of the fan in the parents bedroom.
The story of this particular situation would be retold over and over again. Fueling most of Laura’s obsession with horror movies and anything supernatural, friends and boyfriends would bring her to a cemetery or an abandoned home she had found.
Each time she would explain how her father had turned the fan on high only to have the turn dial clicked over three times and into the off position. Her father’s voiced frustration at the third occurrence of this situation was met with a hello that sounded as if it had emerged from a dark tunnel within the depths of hell itself.
She would later explain the discovery of a tombstone while helping her father dig the groundwork for dog kennels off the side of their garage. This would lead to the explanation of the discovery of the homes history.
Apparently this small little town used to have a very prominent church which used to reside in the field behind their olive green home. This popular church cared for a rather large cemetery which used to reside within the plot of land now containing Laura’s childhood residence.
Kingsunday was the kind of town that didn’t believe in excavating bodies. This was the type of town that felt it much better to build a home directly on top the the bodies. And so they brought in some dirt and they laid a foundation.
On top of this foundation their little three bedroom ranch home was constructed. The garage was attached, the shag carpet was lain, and the home was placed on the market. As an unsuspecting couple in their early twenties, and with a two year old daughter and a promising salesmanship career, Mother and Father couldn’t resist scooping it up.
The home was beautifully silent until the beginning signs of Mother’s Pregnancy. Laura’s sleep wained as it was interrupted more and more with her mother’s passing trimesters.
Dreams were interrupted by a dark figure hovering over Laura’s bed. Feelings of suffocation shook her awake time and time again. Even their pet doberman began sensing a presence. Barking at seemingly empty rooms, the dog quickly became more of a nuisance than a joy.
It soon became very clear that Laura would develop a rather unhealthily obsession with death and the undead. The concepts of pain, blood, and torture excited her in a way nothing else could.
She began a mission to view every horror movie possible. These would later be explained as research for her horror novels. These same explanations would be used after displaying an awkward excitement at an opportunity to photograph a rather disturbing or secluded cemetery.
These excursions soon became a qualification to being a part of her life. Agreeing to and enjoying one of these trips being a right of passage for anyone she wished to hold dear. Refusing this honor was a sure fire way to disappear in the eyes of Laura Elizabeth.
Her mothers exceedingly strong ability to shut out the world for days at the slightest offense only strengthened Laura’s ability to make people completely disappear from her mind. Her mother had done it to her for years after all. It was inevitable she would pick up the art.
Laura was a bit of an eccentric child. One which her parents couldn’t quite seem to comprehend. Incomprehension would soon begin to transform into a rather uneasy feeling. These uneasy feelings surrounding Laura would eventually turn into suspicions of full on insanity.
Little oddities had always confused her father. He believed there was something wrong with Laura’s uncontrollable urge to eat dirt when she was three. He would find her outside with blackened teeth and soil covered fingers.
Laura would always choose to deny her transgression even as the dirt particles would crumble from her chin. Father would shout his concerns for the stability of his daughters head to Mother. Mother would explain the complete normalcy of a small child putting things they should not into their own mouths.
You see, in the beginning, Laura’s mother spent a lot of time defending Laura’s little personalities flaws. Mother took great pride in her daughter and saw absolutely nothing wrong with her.
Her father was the first to vocalize suspicions and questions of Laura’s sanity. These vocalizations began small, but they would eventually grow into screams, screams that her mother would find herself unable to ignore.
Father came home from work once in the summer to find his daughter sitting in the front yard unsupervised. She was surrounded by several small sticks that had been inserted into the ground.
Laura had been building a city in her mind. The sticks were outlines of buildings and streets within the town. Her father did not understand this. To him it looked like she was creating some kind of demented cemetery. This was only a mild disturbance in comparison to the one that would really set her father off.
He would explain this story over and over throughout the years to anyone Laura was stupid enough to bring home. He would marry her cemetery style stick planting tales with stories of her homemade stickers. These stories would entertain the family for years to come.
Laura’s Father did not realize how undisturbing these little oddities were until he was faced with a much more disturbing situation. This particular situation would never be joked about at later dates.
It was a Saturday not unlike another quiet Saturday in their peaceful midwestern lives. The family would stay around their home. Mother busied herself with her new son and housework while Father attended to the more strenuous chores.
Laura was sent outside to play so that her little brother could be lain down for a nap. Laura was accustomed to entertaining herself outside, and rather enjoyed the places her imagination usually took her.
Today there is a hose in her hand as she inhales the smells of summer. Turning the faucet handle, she releases a steady stream onto the adolescent robin stumbling around by their home’s foundation.
The metal screen door clatters as Laura’s father emerges from their house. He rounds the corner just as the robin’s wings increase their frantic spasms.
“I’m giving my pet bird a bath,” she squeals.
Laura recoils her hands as her father rips the hose from them and turns off the faucet. Her eye brows raise and her eyes widen as she turns her head towards him. His face scowls and the hose lands at her feet when he turns to walk away.
Frozen for a brief moment, the bird is still enough to receive a single stroke of Laura’s hand. Her declaration of love is interrupted by the sound of the screen door slamming shut again.
The deep bang of the kitchen door gives the child permission to seek answers. Inhaling silently, her nose fills with the landing’s scents of dirt and moisture while her hand gives her tongue a dash of bitter salt.
The sounds of rushing water and clanking glass drown out any sounds made by her mother. Although, the boom of her fathers voice slams through the noise.
“You’re not going to believe what your daughter was out there doing…She was out there trying to drown a bird … I don’t know, a frickin little bird … She had the hose on it and was trying to drown it… hell if I know why…. Your daughters going to to be a damn psycho…. That’s how they get started, torturing animals … She’s not right in the head