In December 1975, a small family of five moved into their new home in Amityville. They repaired the floors, painted the walls, cleaned the pool, and 28 days later they all ran through the doors of the house screaming, running away, leaving everything behind.
"Judy!!"
Their little daughter screamed as she pointed to the house, but the girl who stood watching her, soaked in blood, turned around and went back inside. She climbed the stairs to her brothers' room and sat on the ground hugging her knees waiting for their older brother to return. She heard his footsteps and the sound of the gun and the bullets that lodged in her parents' bodies. She buried her head between her knees, trembling. Two bullets for each person. Two bullets for each brother and sister, and one bullet for her. It would not kill her immediately.
She saw the shadow before she saw his face. She looked at him pleadingly, then closed her eyes, crying silently. The dying hours ahead would be agonizing, and no one would come to save her, just like a year ago.