Minerva's P.O.V
Everything had gone to plan, of course. Genius, for a 6-year-old. That 6-year-old was a bit like me. Smart, and pretty. But she had brown hair, I have blonde. She had green eyes, I have blue. She had glasses, I have contacts. She was the youngest in the family, I am the oldest. Her parents hated her, Daddy loves me. Her name was Claire, and I am Minerva.
I'm 10 now, but I'm not like any normal 10-year-old. For instance, I spend my free time working, my biggest desire is to kill my family, I don't like the man that loves me to pieces.
At the moment, I'm in my 'bedroom', as Daddy calls it. I call it my study, because I am 'studying', or plotting, as others call it. Because tonight's the night I go out. Tonight's the night Roger dies.
