Farm life as the norm for the Smith family. They were a three-person family with a 22-year-old son Robert. Robert is a man who needs variation and has grown frustrated with the typical life on the farm. Smiles on his face were few and far between, for he dreamed of enjoying the constant activity of city life. His parents are your cliché white bred parents. They enjoyed the isolation and exclusive privacy of the farm. In addition, they were obsessed with the tranquility that came with a simplistic life. Disregarding the dreams of city life imposed by Bobby (as they used to call him), they saddened the morale of their son. Pitifully, Bobby would sit night after night in his bed thinking of a life he couldn't have. Persuasion to leave the farm was out of the question, and Bobby had not seen anyway that his impossibility would become a reality. However, on a chill-full night, complete with chirps of the crickets and the sound of cornhusks as they rubbed together from the light wind was present. They acted as a symphony, together with the usual fanaticizing of Bobby. What had usually turned to a night where the troubled man would cry tenderly to sleep, had turned to a night of anger and rage. In bipolar fashion, Bobby threw his blanket off his body and marched down the stairs. His rage at this time had taken ver his body and though seeming to resist, his mind staggered on. His hand firmly grasped the largest knife in the house. During all this chaos, Bobby's parents remained sleeping, oblivious to the terror about to occur. As the size-eleven feet dropped heavily on each stepped pass, Bobby's mother Cleatus began to awake. Her eyebrow raised in concern for Bobby had usually gone to sleep hours prior. Thinking nothing of the situation she rested he head back upon the pillow. In the seconds to follow, a horrible shadow had hovered over her. Her innate sense of a presence woke her up. She hadn't heard anything, but she had a feeling in her mind that someone was in the room.