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Description
The basement was dark except for the little light coming in from the single rectangular window on the west wall of the underground box. The window told a story of early spring outside. Short spikes of jade green glass shimmered in the April sun, while young tulips fought furiously against each other for a patch of sunlight. This covered a large portion of the window, other than the layers upon layers of dust that obscured all images of the outside world.  A visitor to the neighbourhood would have considered this an insignificant feature of the yellow house on Batons Avenue, seeing as there were more than thirty windows on the upper levels of the house. Unfortunately the seemingly happy and cheerful yellow house held a deep and dark secret behind its doors, one so unfathomable God himself had veiled it from the piercing eyes of its neighbours and local media centres.

The basement was small, and much of it served as a storage space for old family albums, and sports gear. The four sided room was painted four different colours. The colours were very odd; florid red, sea green, banana yellow, and teal blue from the previous owners who used it as a playroom for their five children(what they were  trying to accomplish in choosing such an abnormal colour pallet was a question every owner after them would ponder about).

In the northern part of the room, the wall had evidence that the Joans family had tried to paint over the sea-like green, with a standard white. A 52" flat screen television was hung up and under it was a built in shelf for a VCR and DVD player.

The opposite wall was home to three pieces of framed art, symbolically placed in a straight line and went rather well with the banana yellow. The piece on the left was a plaster model of a baby's toes and chubby hands with a silver plaque and the name "Josiah Joans" engraved into it.

The piece on the right was a sepia picture showing two hands put up against each other. Both hands showed the profile of wedding rings. The slimmer and smaller of the two had a much more obvious ring, while the bulkier of the two hands was a band with small jewels encrusted into it, barely visible in the picture.

In the middle was a family portrait. It looked as if someone had taken a shot of them in motion, rather than asking them to pose. The family of three were sitting on a stone bench
in a garden. The garden was breath taking and resembled something that could have come out of a painting from the royal gardens of the French Monarchy. Tulips, Roses, Bells of Ireland, Peonies and Petunias all in full bloom under the radiant sun.

The father of the young child was resting his hand on his wife's shoulder gazing downwards at his young son. He was well built with large biceps and a muscular chest, which were evident in his semi-tight Lacoste t-shirt that had horizontal green stripes.  Full length casual white pants were the fashion, coupled with brown sandals, which is exactly what he wore. If his face had been cut off he would have been a perfect replica of the young men featured in magazines modelling underwear. On the contrary, he was nothing near to that. He had an upturned nose and large honey coloured eyes with black hair. His face was round and bordered with a small goatee. Wit, humour, and intelligence were apparent on his face. Although, he appeared to try and be serious a smile played around his mouth while his eyes held back the secrets of his fantastic schemes from over the years. Catlike, was a good description though his wife looked at him as if he were a knight in shining armour.

This was obvious, as she seemed to be trying to steal a look at what her husband was doing to get their child's attention. Her hair was short but did not lack in grace as her Scottish curls fell naturally down her neck. Her deep brown eyes were her best feature. They were similar to the Mona Lisa's. They travelled with a person across the room and up the stairs, and waited for them until they returned; so piercing, yet so delicate and praiseworthy. As all people do, she had a flaw. Her nose was blunt, very long, and slightly hooked. Often this flaw was unrecognizable, because it was trumped by her high cheek bones, plump face, and cheer leader body.  Just as her husband, she was dressed to impress, wearing a very elegant green dress that reached below her knees, and a brooch in the shape of a turtle with green jewels as its eyes and shell. On her lap she was fussing about with a young child's collar, while he laughed as his father feigned seriousness, trying to avoid his wife's eyes.

The child looked to be about a year old. His body was chubby and large for his age. Smiling from ear to ear with flushed pinch-able cheeks the size of ripe plums, he was a dream baby. Little baby teeth were already growing out of his pink gums. Casually dressed in jeans and a blue stripped dress shirt, he seemed to be bothered by the collar which was why his mother was trying to make him stop touching it, while his father, to the annoyance of his wife, was making funny faces but composing himself before he was yelled at.

Happiness was clear in this photo. It being placed in the middle was a symbol of the ultimate goal in all their lives: to take care of and love each other. Under the portrait was a gold plaque that read, "Jainie Joans, Jacob Joans, and Josiah Joans". Sadly nothing lasts forever in this life; everything must come to an end, good or bad. Life though is the hardest to bear with when lost.

Below the artwork was an old, worn out black leather couch. Toddler toys that taught children how to say 1-2-3 and the famous A-B-C song were on the floor and couch. Kernels of popcorn adorned the old leather, falling inside the spaces between the cushions. On the far left side of the couch sat a mother with her young son, both unmistakeably asleep. Their faces looked so beautiful and full of tranquility, none could awake them from their slumber.

Footsteps in the upper hallway announced the arrival of someone eager to be back at home with his family, after a long and tedious day of work.

"Jainie, Josiah", the man called telling them he was home, but there was no response.

Brushing away the slight feeling of worry he suddenly had, he decided to watch some television in the basement; assuming his wife had taken their son out to the park or to a friends for a play date. On the last step, he breathed out a deep sigh of relief. The two people, who meant most in his life were asleep, but that small feeling of worry had not vanished, rather lingered around his heart.

He felt they would be happy to see him, so instead of allowing them to sleep on, he approached them quietly. As he walked the short distance from the stairs to the old couch, he smiled knowing that his wife woke at the smallest sounds, so she must have had a tiresome day. That smile went to a frown when he noticed another unusual event. His son never slept at five o'clock, knowing his father cam home at this time. His worry elevated to fear as the unnatural occurrences sank in. Something was wrong.

"Jainie, Josiah", he said in soft tones, gently trying to rouse them out of their deep sleep.

When there was no response, he immediately dashed for the phone heart pounding loudly, blood rushing violently to his brain, as he realised what might be the truth. His muscles were tense as he ran up the flight of stairs that seemed to last an eternity, though were only ten steps. His mind racing, the only words he could think of were; NO, NO, NO. Finally reaching the black phone, he dialled, hands trembling, 9-1-1. The voice on the other line could not have come sooner. The man was desperate, so after numerous times of asking him to calm down, she finally dispatched an ambulance.

Hands running through hair, and body shaking rigorously; he ran to the door and unlocked the bolt so the medics could let themselves in, then running down stairs to be with his wife and children.

The man's painful cries echoed throughout the house as he held his son in his left arm and his wife in his right. Bringing them close to his chest, he allowed his tears to flow endlessly. His eyes would flood with salty water then slowly break through his thick rim of lashes, racing down his cheeks into his beloveds' hair, kissing them on the head or cheek, not wanting to give them up.

The paramedics did not ring the doorbell or knock; instead without delay they crashed through the door one after the other, the man's wailing their guide. They found the middle aged father on the couch, looking like the Virgin Mary as he carried his wife and son in his arms, face ashen and stained with tears, staring into their peaceful faces. When the man noticed they were in the room, a new wave of emotions hit him. He suddenly became very overwhelmed, and nervous. Realising his time with them was over, he kissed them both one last time before gently resting their bodies in the position he found them. With one last longing look at his wife Jainie, and son, Josiah, he stepped away from the couch and let the medics take away his favourite women in the world and the best gift he had ever received, knowing he would see them next in black coffins and not in the orange stretchers.

Description
The basement was dark except for the little light coming in from the single rectangular window on the west wall of the underground box. The window told a story of early spring outside. Short spikes of jade green glass shimmered in the April sun, while young tulips fought furiously against each other for a patch of sunlight. This covered a large portion of the window, other than the layers upon layers of dust that obscured all images of the outside world.  A visitor to the neighbourhood would have considered this an insignificant feature of the yellow house on Batons Avenue, seeing as there were more than thirty windows on the upper levels of the house. Unfortunately the seemingly happy and cheerful yellow house held a deep and dark secret behind its doors, one so unfathomable God himself had veiled it from the piercing eyes of its neighbours and local media centres.

The basement was small, and much of it served as a storage space for old family albums, and sports gear. The four sided room was painted four different colours. The colours were very odd; florid red, sea green, banana yellow, and teal blue from the previous owners who used it as a playroom for their five children(what they were  trying to accomplish in choosing such an abnormal colour pallet was a question every owner after them would ponder about).

In the northern part of the room, the wall had evidence that the Joans family had tried to paint over the sea-like green, with a standard white. A 52" flat screen television was hung up and under it was a built in shelf for a VCR and DVD player.

The opposite wall was home to three pieces of framed art, symbolically placed in a straight line and went rather well with the banana yellow. The piece on the left was a plaster model of a baby's toes and chubby hands with a silver plaque and the name "Josiah Joans" engraved into it.

The piece on the right was a sepia picture showing two hands put up against each other. Both hands showed the profile of wedding rings. The slimmer and smaller of the two had a much more obvious ring, while the bulkier of the two hands was a band with small jewels encrusted into it, barely visible in the picture.

In the middle was a family portrait. It looked as if someone had taken a shot of them in motion, rather than asking them to pose. The family of three were sitting on a stone bench
in a garden. The garden was breath taking and resembled something that could have come out of a painting from the royal gardens of the French Monarchy. Tulips, Roses, Bells of Ireland, Peonies and Petunias all in full bloom under the radiant sun.

The father of the young child was resting his hand on his wife's shoulder gazing downwards at his young son. He was well built with large biceps and a muscular chest, which were evident in his semi-tight Lacoste t-shirt that had horizontal green stripes.  Full length casual white pants were the fashion, coupled with brown sandals, which is exactly what he wore. If his face had been cut off he would have been a perfect replica of the young men featured in magazines modelling underwear. On the contrary, he was nothing near to that. He had an upturned nose and large honey coloured eyes with black hair. His face was round and bordered with a small goatee. Wit, humour, and intelligence were apparent on his face. Although, he appeared to try and be serious a smile played around his mouth while his eyes held back the secrets of his fantastic schemes from over the years. Catlike, was a good description though his wife looked at him as if he were a knight in shining armour.

This was obvious, as she seemed to be trying to steal a look at what her husband was doing to get their child's attention. Her hair was short but did not lack in grace as her Scottish curls fell naturally down her neck. Her deep brown eyes were her best feature. They were similar to the Mona Lisa's. They travelled with a person across the room and up the stairs, and waited for them until they returned; so piercing, yet so delicate and praiseworthy. As all people do, she had a flaw. Her nose was blunt, very long, and slightly hooked. Often this flaw was unrecognizable, because it was trumped by her high cheek bones, plump face, and cheer leader body.  Just as her husband, she was dressed to impress, wearing a very elegant green dress that reached below her knees, and a brooch in the shape of a turtle with green jewels as its eyes and shell. On her lap she was fussing about with a young child's collar, while he laughed as his father feigned seriousness, trying to avoid his wife's eyes.

The child looked to be about a year old. His body was chubby and large for his age. Smiling from ear to ear with flushed pinch-able cheeks the size of ripe plums, he was a dream baby. Little baby teeth were already growing out of his pink gums. Casually dressed in jeans and a blue stripped dress shirt, he seemed to be bothered by the collar which was why his mother was trying to make him stop touching it, while his father, to the annoyance of his wife, was making funny faces but composing himself before he was yelled at.

Happiness was clear in this photo. It being placed in the middle was a symbol of the ultimate goal in all their lives: to take care of and love each other. Under the portrait was a gold plaque that read, "Jainie Joans, Jacob Joans, and Josiah Joans". Sadly nothing lasts forever in this life; everything must come to an end, good or bad. Life though is the hardest to bear with when lost.

Below the artwork was an old, worn out black leather couch. Toddler toys that taught children how to say 1-2-3 and the famous A-B-C song were on the floor and couch. Kernels of popcorn adorned the old leather, falling inside the spaces between the cushions. On the far left side of the couch sat a mother with her young son, both unmistakeably asleep. Their faces looked so beautiful and full of tranquility, none could awake them from their slumber.

Footsteps in the upper hallway announced the arrival of someone eager to be back at home with his family, after a long and tedious day of work.

"Jainie, Josiah", the man called telling them he was home, but there was no response.

Brushing away the slight feeling of worry he suddenly had, he decided to watch some television in the basement; assuming his wife had taken their son out to the park or to a friends for a play date. On the last step, he breathed out a deep sigh of relief. The two people, who meant most in his life were asleep, but that small feeling of worry had not vanished, rather lingered around his heart.

He felt they would be happy to see him, so instead of allowing them to sleep on, he approached them quietly. As he walked the short distance from the stairs to the old couch, he smiled knowing that his wife woke at the smallest sounds, so she must have had a tiresome day. That smile went to a frown when he noticed another unusual event. His son never slept at five o'clock, knowing his father cam home at this time. His worry elevated to fear as the unnatural occurrences sank in. Something was wrong.

"Jainie, Josiah", he said in soft tones, gently trying to rouse them out of their deep sleep.

When there was no response, he immediately dashed for the phone heart pounding loudly, blood rushing violently to his brain, as he realised what might be the truth. His muscles were tense as he ran up the flight of stairs that seemed to last an eternity, though were only ten steps. His mind racing, the only words he could think of were; NO, NO, NO. Finally reaching the black phone, he dialled, hands trembling, 9-1-1. The voice on the other line could not have come sooner. The man was desperate, so after numerous times of asking him to calm down, she finally dispatched an ambulance.

Hands running through hair, and body shaking rigorously; he ran to the door and unlocked the bolt so the medics could let themselves in, then running down stairs to be with his wife and children.

The man's painful cries echoed throughout the house as he held his son in his left arm and his wife in his right. Bringing them close to his chest, he allowed his tears to flow endlessly. His eyes would flood with salty water then slowly break through his thick rim of lashes, racing down his cheeks into his beloveds' hair, kissing them on the head or cheek, not wanting to give them up.

The paramedics did not ring the doorbell or knock; instead without delay they crashed through the door one after the other, the man's wailing their guide. They found the middle aged father on the couch, looking like the Virgin Mary as he carried his wife and son in his arms, face ashen and stained with tears, staring into their peaceful faces. When the man noticed they were in the room, a new wave of emotions hit him. He suddenly became very overwhelmed, and nervous. Realising his time with them was over, he kissed them both one last time before gently resting their bodies in the position he found them. With one last longing look at his wife Jainie, and son, Josiah, he stepped away from the couch and let the medics take away his favourite women in the world and the best gift he had ever received, knowing he would see them next in black coffins and not in the orange stretchers.