A woman pulled a young girl behind her. "Mom," the girl said, "what are we doing?"
"You'll see, Maria. It's a surprise." With a smile on her face, the girl's mother led her into a suburban house with a perfectly trimmed lawn. "You're going to love this."
Maria allowed herself to revel in her mother's secret. Mary Wilson usually hated doing something like that for her daughter. In fact, Maria wasn't even sure her mother saw her as her child or as a tool for her to use anymore.
She took in a deep breath and shook the many images from her head. She didn't want this to be that kind of day.
"Close your eyes, Maria," Mrs. Wilson said. "Close them."
Smirking, Maria did as she was told. She followed her mother's lead, walking where she led her.
Mary stopped and set Maria in a specific place. "Okay," her mother said excitedly. "Open up."
Maria did. And she was not happy with what she saw. "Mom," she said quietly, frozen in place, "what did you do?"
"It's your birthday present!" Mary looked extremely proud of herself. "You're fifteen now. It's time you got into the family business."
"Mom, I've been in the family business. This is not what I wanted. At all. An iPad or something like that would have worked fine."
Maria was staring at an unconscious little boy.
"You know what you have to do. This will be your first official offing."
"Offing? Mom, this is murder."
"Exactly. Get rid of him."
The boy wiped off his cheek in his sleep. "What could he have done?" Maria demanded. "Why do you want him dead?"
"His father owed me something. I need you to kill him to get even. Do it." Her mother's voice came in a low growl. "Or face the consequences."
Maria always found the consequences to be worse than the life she took. But maybe that was just because of her strange experiences.
"He's just a boy!"
"You're just a girl!"
"All the more reason why I shouldn't do it." Maria set a glare on her mother. "I don't want to."
Mary sighed. "Fine. I didn't want to do this, but I'll ground you to the basement."
Reluctantly closing her eyes, Maria began to concentrate on the boy. She could feel the forces of life pulsing around her. The plants, the trees. The boy and her mother. The boy's was strong, vibrating through the air and into Maria's consciousness. She zeroed in on that one. The strength. His will was strong.
But Maria was stronger. She imagined the boy as nothing more than a sack of organs- nothing more than flesh covering bone. Not a human. Less than human. An it.
Maria envisioned his life force as a rope. She began pulling that rope toward herself, yanking his life into her own. Merging him with her. She became one with him. His memories, his likes, his dislikes. His pet peeves, and his family became hers for a brief moment. Then it slipped away. And the boy took his last breath.
"Good work," her mother said. "Welcome to the family."
I don't want to be part of this family.