You had arrived at The Murder House since you had an appointment with your psychiatrist, Dr. Harmon. He had made you wait in the living room, so you were sitting in one of the large armchairs facing a window.

"Then I'm not the only crazy one waiting here."

A masculine and sarcastic voice spoke to you, it was a young boy with blonde hair who was looking at you from the entrance of the living room. It was Tate.