By Megan Meabh
A raven. A small town which looks perfect on the outside. A man who confines his family on the inside of the house, things of questionable degree occur, and one neighbor actually cares to dig deeper. To find out more. A peaceful home of your own is one thing. But knowing that an evil neighbor lurks, and just not that far away brings disturbance no time meter throughout many lifetimes might hope to even begin to peg. The darndest things happen next door. The man, a strange one buries a black human body bag in the bag yard late one night. Trash recycling, a possible profit, but not for plastic which will not disintegrate. And then there is a necklace buried with the large object. A large list of acting talent, each person used a great finesse’ to express the mystery behind the event: Emma Caulfield (Victoria Peyton), Michael Hogan (Fritz Wolfram), David James Elliott (Michael Peyton), Paul McGillion (Detective Chris Cornell), Melanie Papalia (Eva Peyton), Karen Austin (Ellie Wolfram), Erica Carroll (Careese Neys), Mandy Playdon (Teenage Daughter), Kwesi Ameyaw (Doctor), Travis Turner (Unknown Boy).
No series of coincidences, the pattern behind the behavior of the man repeats itself more greater than the old analogy of a meth lab cooker who a repeat offender and with no guilt whatsoever, two ten-year timespans of female abuse in a row, and with similar trait. The adamant refusal to marry just in order to, as the classic parable goes and of course this is only a shady excuse, to hang onto a house, some land, a property. Both women scrub floors on their hands and knees, birthed a son apiece, and both thrown out into the streets, one on a dark and lonely country road with nothing but a paper sack of raggedy clothes and frought with a frail excuse they gave, actually a lie to save the skin of another, and at the pivotal moment, the Victoria of this story also, who as a part of the pattern no one at first believed, rescues the child from a home where she also used, abused and living alive while soddered within a basement wall, once held captive. This time, the suspicious neighbor party of interest tactic pays off, for with one child already dead and murdered by the father, even the neighbor knows that the man is no victim of a heart that either needs or wants to love. Sometimes it only takes one person to speak up to save the children.
When her husband decides to lovingly bring in all of her drawing materials, the next-door-neighbor whose skies seem more drawn than the brown and yellow light of a more definite subtlety, peeks out from behind blinds and doorways, and while some may find him, her elder next door neighborh kind, quaint, friendly or normal, the others, those who live behind his closed and quadruple locked doors know different. Even the young blond artist begins to suspect different, perhaps due to a more undocile past experience, perhaps since Victoria senses something different about the home of Chris, an unseen quality that distinguishes his home from that of all of the other homes lined up perfectly up and down the small town street.
I’m so sorry for your loss, she apologizes to him. But when his fingers chop as by the guidance of heaven each piano key, the clouds which more rapid over all seem also to speak of a spiritual thing. Morning comes quickly for the woman who anxious to get on with her own art project does not really have the time to puruse her neighbor’s lower basement problem.
A psychopath perhaps, as she reasons about his mental condition, she runs to the library and finds a newspaper clipping where the Wolfrum boy, the son of the neighbor turned up missing. She warns her friend, a real estate agent to get out of the basement of the man quick. “Seriously, we have to go.” Still, even with he and his wife, the artist on the way, and now the full knowledge that he has Careese locked up in his house, the police falsely call the problem a lack of evidence, threaten the victim savior, and protect the perpetrator. Suburban mystifications aside, even neighbors know when a family is not right, or in the case here, the man and the head of the family alone. Most people truly only want the unpleasant people of the past to just go away, to stop practicing social anarchy. The neighbor here is proof that while some people ask why others do not just go away and leave them alone, it seems the minute they do, here come the ones who wanted the one to go away in the first place. Human nature is an ugly thing, and uglier still the excuses the flesh of men and women everywhere who want to continue to claim anal mistakes and rebellious imperfection, a purposeful way of the lauded and misdirected life.
Captive necessity will let you win it for yourself every time. You fought to either go your own way, or the way of the greatest sole socio-political advancement the whole time. Instead of fighting to earn what lovers own, you strove to go the world way. Victoria pounds his dark wall with a shovel, and while Careese not buried brick-by-brick, what she discovers within the corridor of concrete. The man called locking her up in a room in the home, behind steel protect. He shops for all of the groceries, and the lady who bound only to silently follow him, he checks on the girl downstairs. His life one of complete control. His alone. Victoria, the artist neighbor who risks her life to rescue the child, finds herself a guest at the very home of Fritz, the criminal who cleverly usurps his victim’s rights. When her husband sides with the felon, the felon does what any wise felon in his wrong man mind might. He goes for it full-force, bonks the dumb man on the head with a shovel, and begins to work his heart desire. Which is? To drag the wife and daughter of the man away to captivity, while the sleep-walking man, fate decrees to the lovely land of bondage sweet.
_________________Drama | Thriller Rated________________________