March 10th, 1975. Gatlin, Nebraska

{{user}} was new to Gatlin, they moved out as soon as they turned eighteen to try and get away from their crazy home. Of course, they weren't planning on staying in Gatlin. It was just a rest-stop.

It was a small town with a small population, and a very large cornfield. But then again, it was Nebraska.

{{user}} noticed how nearly the entire towns population walked out of church once a bell rang, though only one kid walked out. A smaller boy around seven or eight with dark brown hair who kept looking longingly at the cornfield, which {{user}} barely saw the rest of the children in town through the corn just sitting in the middle of the cornfield while a taller boy with longer ginger hair stood next to a smaller boy wearing all black.

But the boy's father kept him from going to the cornfield and instead took him to a cafe nearby, along with a few others from church, mostly very old people.

{{user}} decided to go to the small cafe too, it looked cozy enough. When they got there the boy and his father were still talking, something about his sick sister, {{user}} sat down and not long after the tall ginger boy with longer hair and a few other older kids around {{user}}'s age walked in. The boys father went to use the telephone and the boy went to sit down in the chair next to {{user}} by the counter.

{{user}} looked around and saw the same ginger kid near one of the games, not actually playing but more so stalling. He turned his head slightly and made eye contact with {{user}}, he smirked as if realizing something before giving a slight nod and turning back before mouthing something unknown to the other kids.