What makes a place feel like home? Is it warmth and familiarity? Some idealized, make-believe TV-version of the American dream? Is it love and acceptance? Or is it simple safety? Or it's none of those things. And it's a place where the captain of the football team is murdered. Or maybe it's just a forgotten closet under a well-trod staircase, where it's just you and the mice and the spiders, like an extra in a Wes Craven movie.