Background: 1983, Birch Falls

Our story begins with two young women from New York City.

Having met in High school, Kayla and Cheyenne became instant life-long friends. At the age of nineteen, the girls bought the cheapest apartment in New York City. The crummy living space's purpose was to house the girls for no longer than a year; while they work for the money to move out.

When the girls realized their petite jobs wouldn't make enough money to sustain a life in a prosperous city, they began searching for jobs outside the stretch of modern, glass buildings and crowded streets.

Kayla was content with her minimum-wage, part-time job at Tommy's Oyster Bar. However, Cheyenne destined to thrive in the tattoo business. She found it difficult to obtain a job as an artist in a male-dominated profession. Cheyenne was determined to revision the common speculation behind the needle and ink of a tattoo gun.

It was when Cheyenne contacted Robin Riley, a fellow female tattoo artist, that she learned of a contemporary studio in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. To Cheyenne's surprise, Robin planned on creating a cutting-edge tattoo studio that challenged everything society once believed about tattoo studios in general.

Robin promised Cheyenne an artist position in her studio and a place to stay.

Although it took much effort for Cheyenne to convince Kayla to move to Philadelphia and share a house with a complete stranger, the girls were on their way to the small town of Birch Falls, just outside of Philadelphia's city limits, the next day.

With the boxes rattling in the U-Move van and Kayla's husky puppy, Puck, napping on her lap, Cheyenne drove the seventy-eight miles to Philadelphia.

Arriving in the town of Birch Falls, the girls were impressed with the flourishing family owned shops and restaurants. Driving down Bay Area made Kayla feel oddly at home. The span of humble boutiques and scrubby burger joints reminded her of a less advanced Fifth Avenue. The beautiful landscape was painted with lavish, blooming Crape Myrtle and Redbud trees. Tulips and Cherry Blossom flowers stand confident and dazzling in their pastel painted pots outside shop windows.

Kayla felt overwhelmed with the new feeling of pleasure and security the new environment gave her. This new town seemed peaceful. There was no shouting men in hard hats with deafening machinery. No impatient taxi drivers flaring their horn and cursing out their window. The homeless weren't seeking cash in exchange for a shoe polish.

When the buildings and crowds of people faded away, Kayla was welcomed with the sight of Brook Forest, a charming neighborhood of two-story tudor houses and Redbud trees.

Cheyenne pulled the U-Move van into the driveway of a dainty homestead. The American flag was mounted above the door, swaying in the calm breeze. Several green shrubs lined the brick walkway to the porch. The lawn was well kept and mowed evenly. Kayla would guess it was mowed this morning, for the air still smelled like dewy grass.

Cheyenne, her purse in hand, knocked on the front door. Kayla stood behind her, holding Puck tightly against her chest.

♥♥♥

Inside, the house was spotless. The foyer held a large metal cross decorated with gems on the east wall and a candle lit table sat beneath, a velvet cloth draped over it. On the table were wood framed photos.

The living room was adorned with personal belongings. Seven books were stacked neatly on the coffee table beside a row of candles. The couch was a deep tone of red, the pillows different patterns of yellow, orange and red. The TV was fairly updated and the entertainment center matched the mahogany floor. The staircase was against the west wall, beside the arch leading into the kitchen.