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You land with a soft thud on the other side of the fence. Your fingers ache a little from the rusty fence links. You look around the backyard, trying to avoid looking at the house. It does not matter which side of it you're on, the house seems to always lean toward you like a monster about to be fed.

With the dread from the house growing by the second, you're not sure if it'd be a good idea to actually stay in the house; but the only other place you could stay in is a small shed out here in the yard. You could stay there and tell everyone else you slept in the house, but if they find out you lied to them it'd be even worse than if you just ran away.