Inside the sleeping house, the small boy sat quietly in darkness.
He was not sad.
Because he was not alone.
The stone girl stood beside him forever.
The black blood was dry and silent.
The red light was gone.
The boy whispered,
"Brother is free now."
Outside, the village people were living without fear.
Children were playing.
Old men were smoking near the tea shop.
Nobody remembered the house on the hill.
The night was peaceful.
And the house was dreaming.