No one ever believes the rumors and stories people told about the Wallace family. Horrifying stories were told that never seemed likely about Dren and Calvin Wallace. Mr. and Mrs. Wallace lived a peaceful normal life. Just like many relationships, Dren and Calvin met in high school in 1928, and fell in love instantly. Dren was only a sophomore when she met Calvin who was a senior at the time.
Dren was an average high school girl. She lived a very wealthy childhood, having everything in the palm of her hand. She was raised by her mother and father, and had no other siblings. Dren was always the center of attention. She was captain of the cheer team, and a 4.0 student. When Dren was growing up she was beautiful. During her high school years everyone wanted to be with her, and all the girls were jealous of her. She had large brown eyes, and silky blonde hair that moved with the wind. Dren was very tall, but very slender. She had skin that was a light tan like the sand at the beach. When people passed her in the hall, they were in awe of how pretty she was. When she met Calvin she knew that he was the one. She fell in love with his large brown eyes that glistened in the sunlight, and his slicked back hair that he’d run his fingers through whenever they talked. They knew that they were going to be together forever.
Nobody was of importance to her till the day she met Calvin. Before he came into her life, school and family were her only priorities. Calvin was the star of their high school football team. Girls drooled over Calvin, waiting for the day that he would throw a ball like in Cinderella so they could win his heart, but no girl caught his eye. He was never a player, and he rarely talked to any girls. Though, when he met Dren she changed his world. Within months Calvin was ready to settle down and start his future with her.
At age 28, Calvin asked for Dren’s hand in marriage on March 18 1936, and she of course said yes. They spent every second they could together, letting their love grow stronger day by day for the next three months. Their wedding was held in Balve, Germany. Their wedding was very fancy and everyone in town joined to celebrate their marriage.
After being married for about two years WWII began, and they had to go into hiding. After the war was over in 1943, Dren and Calvin had twins Andrea and Fillmore on September 21, 1944. Andrea was 15 minutes older then Fillmore. Andrea was a very small baby when she was born. She had a full head of soft brown hair while Fillmore had no hair at all. The Wallace’s lived the dream life. Not often is a family seen that loves each other more than anything in the world, always putting each other before themselves.
As Dren aged, so did her looks. Though, Calvin didn’t seem to care one bit. At age 35, Dren’s hair started to grey, and her skin began to sag. Until Calvin’s death, every morning he would wake up and tell his wife how beautiful she was. He treated her with flowers, candy and all the love he could give. They were a match made in heaven.
In 1963, Calvin died of a heart attack due to post Traumatic stress at age 53, when Andrea and Fillmore were only fourteen years old. After he had passed Dren started having dementia and didn’t know or remember a lot of things. Nothing compares to the love they shared. Losing the love of her life took a toll on her old heart and mind. She wouldn’t ever be the same again.
Dren wouldn’t leave the house for anything because she was trying to not look hold of Calvin. She was afraid if she left, Calvin might leave as well. Dren was a very angry, bitter old woman. Her husband’s death made her miserable and she didn’t know how to handle the heart break. She took all the anger of her husband’s death out on her children, treating them like slaves. Never once since Calvin’s death did she ever say she loved them or cared about how they felt. Dren used them for all they were worth. She made Fillmore water and feed the cows and chickens while Andrea tended the farm garden. All fruits, vegetables and meat were homegrown by Andrea and Fillmore.
Andrea and Fillmore couldn’t eat their mother’s cooking growing up. It made them extremely ill, so they decided to not eat rather than be sick. Their mother didn’t like it though. Dren would get furious when they wouldn’t eat her cooking and would abuse them. Some days, it would be with a leather belt across the back, while other days it would be with her bare hands; Beating them till they were bruised and bleeding. From the day of Calvin’s death, they never lived the same happy childhood as they once did before. They never asked why Dren was so frightened of leaving home, because they too were terrified of her and what she was capable of doing.
One stormy night, when Fillmore was outside playing, he saw a kitten stranded with the horses. It was a very small kitten with bright blue eyes. The kitten was cold and shivering and the long gray fur on its back was wet. Fillmore picked it up into his arms. The kitten smelled of musty dirt. He could feel the kitten’s ribs through the thick matted fur, and he felt sorry for it. Cats were his father’s favorite animal. Every year while Calvin was alive, Dren would take the children to the store to pick out a cat stuffed animal for their father’s birthday. Fillmore thought his mother would enjoy the poor animal and brought it into the house.
“Mother, look what I have found outside with the horses!” She looked at Fillmore with disgust, and didn’t understand why he would bring such horrifying memories back into the house. She took the cat from Fillmore’s arms and put it in the basement. She came up the basement stairs furious and grabbed Fillmore left arm; Dragging him down the hall, into her bedroom. She took the leather belt off of her shelf and hit him across the back. He yelped in pain. She raised the belt another time; he shirked back trying to ignore the agony. She raised it one last time and he called out for help. Andrea came running in to see her mother grab Fillmore by the throat and throw him across the room to the doorway at Andrea’s feet. Andrea and Fillmore’s lives changed drastically.
Dren was not the same woman she was a few years before. Every night, Andrea could hear her mother weeping in the bedroom next to hers. She felt bad for her mother, knowing the same pain she was suffering from. One night Andrea decided to wake up Fillmore and they decided to go try and comfort their mother, for they didn’t like seeing her in pain even though she did them wrong. It was still their mother. They knocked on her old wooden door once, but Dren didn’t answer. Andrea walked into Dren’s dark musky room. It smelled of rotten wood, and sweat. The fifteen year old girl was scared, and didn’t know what her mother was capable of doing. She turned around to look at Fillmore still in the doorway, not wanting to enter without Dren’s permission.
“Mother, are you feeling okay?” Andrea whispered quietly to Dren, but nothing happened. There wasn’t any more weeping, and she couldn’t hear her breathing. Andrea stepped closer, trying to see her mom in the darkness.
“Mother, can you hear me? I want to help you feel better. We both do.” She takes a deep breath, not understanding why their mother isn’t responding to her. She takes another step towards her mother and the wooden floor boards screech below her feet, causing her to kind of jump back in shock looking down to the floor. She looks up one last time to see Dren standing beside her bed. She could only see a slight shadow of Dren, from the light from the hall. Dren drastically charges toward Andrea, grabbing her by her hair. Fillmore runs out back to his bedroom to hide. Dren threw Andrea across the room, causing her to slam into the wooden dresser to the right of the room. Barely conscious, Andrea looks up to her mother,
“Please don’t hurt me anymore mommy…” she laid there pleading for her mother’s forgiveness. She could barely breathe, and you could hear her gasping for air. Dren didn’t listen though. She took a belt and whipped Andrea till she bled. Chanting over and over, “Do not enter my room while your father is visiting.” This frightened Andrea more than the beating, since her father was no longer alive. Andrea felt faint, and the room began to spin. Though, she knew if she fainted her mother would only be angrier. That night Andrea went back to her room to lie in bed bruised and broken. Fillmore came in to comfort his older sister, and they devised a plan.
Once they turned seventeen they left to Berlin. They started their first few years in Berlin sharing a small house in town. They went to school and work, and started their lives out forgetting the awful past. At first they would try to contact their mother, but she wouldn’t ever answer. After a few months of trying to get a hold of her, and getting no reply, they gave up.
Andrea finished college, and became a doctor for people that have mental disabilities. While Fillmore still attended school to became a lawyer. In 1970, at age 21 Andrea and Fillmore decided to part ways. Andrea moved to a large town in Germany called Bavaria, where she met Alastair Eisenhower III. Alastair was a young man form Britain, who caught Andrea’s eye at work. He was a very wise man with a beautiful smile. He absolutely blew Andrea away. They married five months later. Fillmore on the other hand moved to a much smaller town in Germany called Bremen. After a year of working and moving up in life, Fillmore met his wife Natascha Eleanor. She had been a track-star since she was 7 years old. She worked as an accountant and was the most beautiful woman in Fillmore’s eyes. Ever since the day they married, he vowed to never look at another woman other than her, and he kept that vow. Even though Andrea and Fillmore had busy lives, they often thought of their poor mother.

Dren never celebrated birthdays or holidays. She wasn’t interested in the lives of her children or what they were doing. The sight of them reminded her of Calvin which sickened her. She sat alone at home knitting clothes for Calvin’s stuffed animals, and occasionally she would work on the ones that Andrea would send every year on her birthday. The children had realized over time that they will never compare to their father in their mother’s eyes. The sight of her children made her sick.
Dren had a daily routine that she did every day. Every morning she would wake and begin breakfast. As it cooked she would set out dishes on the table for her and Calvin. When breakfast was ready she would serve it onto their plates. Even though Calvin was no longer there with her, she always said he was. She would bring a stuffed animal to the table to eat with her. She would talk to it as if it was actually Calvin sitting with her, talking back. After breakfast, she could take the stuffed Calvin to the bathroom while she did dishes. After stuffed animal Calvin pretended to shower, she would take him to bed. After that Dren would attend to the rest of her day. Dren’s life consisted of cooking, cleaning and attending her knitting and her puzzle. Dren would redo the same puzzle her and Calvin once did over and over. She has redone it 307 times since Calvin’s death about 8 years ago.
One early morning as she sat on her couch knitting she hears a loud knock on her door. She can hear footsteps on her porch. She slowly peeks out her window and sees a younger man about 35 years of age examining her house. He was very tall, meager about, 178 pounds with dark brown curly hair. He wore huge black specks and a tie that fit loosely around his neck. He had on a long sleeve sweater vest that was tucked into his khaki slacks. He was looking around her house like he was lost. Her house was small. With a big back yard, perfect flowers in the front, and tall grass. Her home was cozy and well decorated for a widowed woman in her late 80’s. Dren refuses to go outside, and for 3 years her house was very dirty and the yard was overgrown with weeds. Judea Marie was Dren’s next door neighbor and babysat Andrea and Fillmore when they were younger. She felt bad for Dren and tended her yard every week. Dren was confused on why this man was standing in her yard. She takes a deep breath and got up out of her broken down rocking chair. She slowly creeps over to the door and opens it fearfully, but doesn’t unhook the chain bolt. “Yes?” Dren asked in a bad-mannered way.

“Hello, I am Stacy Taverns, and I have a quick question for you. If I may take a moment of your time?” she politely responded to Dren’s rude hello. Stacy was a very attractive young lady. She had to be in her late twenties or early thirties, but she looked a lot better than a lot of women her age. Stacy was around five feet tall. Her sundress was a sunny shade of yellow that really brought out her bright blue eyes that looked like the sky.
“Hurry up! What do you want?” she remarked.

Stacy rolled her eyes to the thought of the un-mannered old lady. She huffed and opened her mouth as she was going to say something but she paused mid-thought. “My son has lost 8 kittens and the mother in the past two weeks. You wouldn’t have seen them around your home have you? We are getting very suspicious.” She closes her mouth slowly and Dren can’t stop looking at her shiny red lips. Dren’s grin grows wider and she opens her door all the way to get a better look at Stacy.
“I love cats. If I saw a cat I’d report it. I have wanted one ever since I was little,” she says twitchily with her toothless grin. Stacy seemed extremely pleased to hear that and takes a step back.
“Well if you don’t mind” she paused and hands Dren a piece of paper with scribbled numbers in blue ink on it. “Will you call me if you see any? There were 9, a mother and her 8 babies.”
Dren chuckled quietly and mumbled “I will be right back…” and she leaves the door wide open as she walks to her kitchen... Today had been a very off day for Dren. As she turned the sharp corner into the kitchen she had forgotten why she had gone there. The kitchen was a disaster because Dren decided to take a day off today. She walks to the fridge and pulls out a large green bowl covered by tin foil. She walks back out to the living room to see Stacy standing halfway into her living room.
“What in the hell do you think you are doing inside my house?” Dren instantaneously got furious. Her face becomes a bright shade of red, almost the color of blood. Dren’s hands became clammy.
The green bowl slipped, and felt onto the floor. Stacy wasn’t sure if it was an accident or if the old woman was ready to attack her. Stacy could tell she was in the wrong, and took two steps back. The man at the end of the walk way walked towards Stacy to protect her.
“I am so sorry; I love your house... And I just wanted…” Stacy paused to take a deep breath, knowing that every word out of her mouth only angered the old woman more and more. Stacy opened her mouth to continue speaking but Dren stopped her.
“Get out of my house! I don’t have the damned cats, and I don’t care about them either! Now leave and don’t you dare ever try and come back,” Stacy felt awful. She stepped back away, almost feeling sorry for the poor old woman. Dren stepped toward Stacy and the man begins sprinting, as if Dren was close enough to do anything.
“What is wrong with you?” The man scowls at Stacy. “This isn’t like you; I think it is time we go now. Last thing we need is the cops getting called.” Stacy’s eyebrows lower in disappointment with herself.
“I am sorry …” Stacy waits for forgiveness but she receives nothing from the grumpy old woman. Dren takes one more step towards Stacy, stepping over the spilled stew on the floor. She reaches up with her right hand, grabbing the side of the old oak door and slams it in their faces. She then turns around and walks over to her walking chair and sits down. The chair creeks when she sits down. She leaned back and a loud scratching noise occurs as the arm rest hits the wall next her. Dren leans to her right and opens the dusty, red curtains. The couple outside have just began to leave. Dren reaches for the cigarette on the side table to her left. She lights it, and began to slowly rock back and forth. Dren looks down to see the stew still all over the rustic hardwood floor, but she doesn’t bother to get up and clean it. Her face grew red with fury, at the thought of what Stacy had done.
“What a stupid woman,” she mumbled under her breath.
It was three in the morning, in the middle of June, and Dren is startled awake by the sound of footsteps in the living room. The wind whistled, and blew through the cracks of the old wooden window. The floor creaked, and it sounded as if someone was walking through her house. Dren reaches for the auburn dresser to the right and pulls herself up. She slowly opens the first drawer and pulls out a small pistol. Her feet dangle of the bed and touch the cold hardwood floor. She makes her way out of bed and heads for her bedroom door. Slowly opening it, she sees a dark shadow move across the hallway towards the kitchen. Dren tiptoes down the hall, she peaked into the kitchen, but nobody was in there. She turns around and looks into the living room, but still nobody is there. There was a faint rattle of chains, and she heard them get set onto the dining room table.
Dren walks into the kitchen to see a man dressed in dark clothing standing there, but he doesn’t see her. He stands, fidgeting with the basement door. He is a rather tall man, with great posture. Dren was confused why he was breaking into her house. Dren moved closer to see the man with an amazing jaw line and perfect hair. He finally gets the basement door open and is about to head down the stairs.
“Who are you?” Dren yells running towards the mysterious man. His muscular back tenses, and he turns around and looks directly into her eyes. She puts both hands on his hard chest, and pushes him, causing him to tumble down the large flight of stairs. He lands onto the hard concrete floor, in the shadowy basement almost paralyzed. Dren pulls out her gun, barely even looking at the man.
“Mom…” He yells loudly trying to get her attention. Dren pauses before making any sudden movements.
“Who are you?” She demands. The man lay there, breathing hard and wheezing. He couldn’t say a word. She turned the light on to see her son lying on the floor below her, in agonizing pain.
“Fillmore…” Dren started to make her way down the steps to help her son. He was barely breathing, gasping for air. She reaches for him, grabbing him by the throat. The old woman stood above her injured son, taking every last bit of breath he had away from him. Breathless, almost dead Fillmore reached up and pushed his elderly mother off of him.
Dren stopped fighting and sat down next to her son. The room was ice cold, and dark. Fillmore shivered, not by chills but by the presence of his mother.
“Why are you here Fillmore? This is not your home, you’re not welcome here.” Dren was stern with her question. She was trying to hurt him. It worked. Fillmore didn’t know how to take being so greatly unwanted by his own mother. He gasped trying to get enough air to respond to her hateful remark.
“I don’t understand you … Why do you treat us so horribly? Why don’t you want us in your life?” Fillmore used the last bit of air he had left. Dren didn’t say a word; she sat there concentrating. The silence killed Fillmore.
“I love you so much; I want to be back in your life. Like a real family. Remember how things used to be? When we played board games till 3 AM, and you’d massage our backs. I drove here tonight to see you… ” Fillmore couldn’t say another word, before his mother interrupted him.
“Do you still love me?” She said sympathetically. Fillmore nods yes to his mother but she isn’t looking back at him. He could see the guilt and sorrow she was feeling, but was scared that it was an act. Dren looks at her son, making eye contact. His bright blue eyes reflected off the light at the top of the stairs, and his strong jaw bone brought back memories of his father Calvin.
“I need to know why you don’t care about me, or Andrea. What did we do to make you despise us?” She looked away as he spoke to her, and he turned to see what she was staring at. He peered into the darkness but couldn’t see anything. He slowly tries to push himself up and looks around the room. The room was musky; with every breath he inhaled a little bit more dust.
Fillmore looks up to see his mother standing above him.
Startled, Fillmore asks, “What are you doing?” She sits down right next to him, barely giving him room to breathe. She lifts her small wrinkly hand and puts her middle finger over his lips and hushes him.

“It will be okay … I am here with you now.” She lifts her hand off of his dry, cold lips and brushes his hair back from his face. Fillmore didn’t say a word. All he could hear was the faint sound of the wind. It was distant, but he tried focusing his mind on something else; Praying that it was a dream.

“Give me a hug my dear…” Dren sat there, with her arms stretched out Fillmore was motionless, debating if it was a good idea to give in. Fillmore was confused.

Speechless, Fillmore slowly sits up and leans towards his mother. She grabs him tight, and he feels her heat. For a second, he felt safe.