The last of the sun's rays were glimmering beyond the black horizon, as Maggie Thompson drove up to her large house. She parked the car and she got out, dragging out heavy shopping bags, before slamming the car door shut. The tired woman staggered inside and she set the shopping bags down at the kitchen counter. The house was silent. The clock ticking in the lounge room seemed to reverberate around the large two-story, taunting the woman's painful loneliness.

Maggie ran her hand through her mousy brown hair, and slumped into a kitchen stool. The shopping bags lay at the counter, oranges and apples spilling out of the plastic white bags. Maggie rolled an apple around, lost in her misery and loneliness.

"If only..." She sighed.

Her black eyes darted over to the clock, and she gazed at it, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a movement behind brought her back to earth. Heart pounding, she spun around. Only to see...nothing. Relieved and slightly frightened, she turned back around. Then it hit her. The bright golden glow filled up the house, reaching into the darkest places of all, and casting white light on the windows. Maggie stiffened, and, trembling with fear, slowly turned around again. Yet there was nothing.

Maggie was frightened. The golden glow freaked her out. It was not just the fact that it was cast in her home in a supernatural way. It was because the golden glow was cold...and dismissive. The glow was like the darkness, unknowing and unseeing. It was taunting her and mocking her, making her heart jump every second, and sweat form on her cold and clammy skin.


Maggie stifled a shocked scream and staggered back, her eyes widened with terror and her face as white as a sheet of paper. In front of her, appearing out of nowhere stood a young boy, glowing a bright golden light, and resembling her long dead son.