Wesley was eighteen with short blonde hair and light blue eyes. Thinking that his mother and step-father had gone to work already he got dressed and was going to get a hard start on cleaning the garage like his mother had wanted him to. They had moved in with his step-father Trent a year ago and even though he liked Trent he wished that he had someone to hang out with and talk to his own age. Throwing on a pair of jogging shorts the only thing he could find clean in his dresser he rushed to put his shoes on and headed outside to the garage on the other side of the house. It was cool in there while the heat was already beginning, the sun high in the sky. Wesley began moving boxes around in the garage, stacking them neatly. As he began sweeping the garage floor he looked over at a wooden door that was securely locked. Not with any ordinary lock either, it was a padlock. Whatever Trent had behind that door he knew that it was something private.