Chapter 1:

Rosalie:

I remember the first time I killed a deer. It was my first hunting trip. My dad kept insisting to my mother I had to go hunting. I was "tough" he said. I remember the begging my father had to do with my mother and the tears I had to shed in order to be allowed to go. But she finally relented, she could never say no to my father no matter how hard she tried. She acted angry and ignored my father for a while but it never lasted. My father would joke with her and that same smile would comeback, quickly and faintly tugging at the corners of her mouth lighting up her beautiful young face. My whole family knew that playful smile meant she had forgiven us, even if only for a while.

My mother woke me up early that morning covering with me with kisses and tickles in order to wake me from my deep slumber. It was so early and so cold I wished to stay forever tucked beneath the covers close beside my warm sister. I rolled over away from her and pushed my face deeper into the soft feather pillow willing back the sleep she had taken me from.

"Guess your gonna let the family starve then huh? And why, your sisters were so looking forward to the deer meat their big sister was going to bring back for them. I told your father you weren't tough enough for this," she said as she softly padded out of the room. She let out a small sigh, "guess I have to go tell your father."

I suddenly snapped out of bed with such force that I was surprised I hadn't awaken my sister, I could feel the heat on my face and the embarrassment I felt. "I'm getting up please don't tell Daddy! I'm awake I swear! Ill prove to you I'm tough I was just tired. I'll catch us the biggest fattest deer for dinner!" I said this all practically screaming with tears on the brim of escaping my eyelids. My mother stood with her back to me in the doorway listening and she silently turned around flashing me that same playful smile. I sighed with relief feeling the tears vanish. She chuckled and sat down next to me pulling me close to her.

"Oh Rosie your the toughest girl I know! Why our house would be swarmed with spiders if it wasn't for you killing them for me! I just had to say something to get you to move from your bed" her smile growing wider and then fading quickly. I could tell a new thought had passed through her mind. I quickly squeezed her hand and she gave a weak smile down to me. She started stroking my hair softly.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm not sure how I feel about you holding a rifle and having to kill something."

"It's okay mommy, daddy's killed deer before he'll teach me how not to be afraid" I said throwing my arms around her neck.

"Oh baby," she sighed. "I don't know how I feel exposing you to this...what it's like to see a life end and by your own hands..." Her eyes seemed to drift off for a moment and then they quickly snapped back to me. "I just don't want to take away this...innocence" she said more to herself than me, her eyes filled with tears.

I pushed her away my childlike pride hurt. "I'm not a baby!" I exclaimed.

"I know sweetie I wasn't saying that," she chuckled wiping away tears. "You'll understand one day when you have your own baby," she stood up suddenly, snapping back to her old chipper self; "Now come on I have a nice big breakfast made for you and your father is just aching to get out into those darn woods" she chuckled. "Hurry up and get changed and come downstairs" she said before sweeping herself briskly out of the room.

I quickly jumped out of the warm bed, startled by the conversation with my mother. I was disturbed by her fear. I felt a moment of doubt pass over me, questioning whether I was ready to go hunting. These doubts quickly went away as I wriggled into my bulky insulted hunting clothes.

I ran down stairs practically skidding across the kitchen floor.

My father looked up from where he was oiling the guns, giving me a goofy grin; "Well someone's excited."

I gave him a huge smile as I sat down in my chair, piling my mother's fluffy pancakes onto my plate. I could barely contain the anxiety I felt.

This was one of the last memories I have of my family being happy before everything fell apart. You would never have thought only a few months from this moment everything would be so tragically different between us.

After I had scarfed down my mother's pancakes, I quickly jumped out of my chair, urging and pulling my father to hurry up so we could get out into the woods. He smiled down at me scooping me up on top of his shoulders, carrying us outside. He had only walked a few yards away from the house when my mother came running out after us.

"Wait!" She squealed. My father set me down on the ground in order to embrace her long kiss. She then turned her gaze to me,pulling away from my father and getting eye-level with me, sweeping my unruly red curls out of my face.

Saying, as she cupped my face in her hands; "Listen to your father and stay close to him." She pulled me close to her, hugging me. I instantly went slack in her arms, she whispered softly with a kiss on top of my head; "I love you."

As much I wanted to stay in her arms forever, I knew I had to get a move on. I pulled away from her rushing to catch up with my father. Walking with him I turned back, seeing her standing in the doorway, the rising sun lighting up her red hair perfectly and making the tears on her cheeks glisten. I kept looking back at her there wanting to capture that image of her forever. Eventually she returned inside but I never forgot the perfection of the image of her standing there.

After what seemed like ages of walking we arrived to the tree where my father decided we would set up our post. My father loaded the gun as I waited anxiously. He leaned down to give me the now loaded gun. With a stern look in his eyes he said; "Be careful with this and remember everything I have taught you when practicing. And remember this, never hesitate and don't ever overthink."

I knew little then what those words would mean to me but I thought then I was ready for this responsibility.

I quickly scampered up to the point in the trees my father had chosen. For hours we sat up there, at first I was excited but by this point I was bored and tired. My father told me to be quiet so we talked little. I just sat there passing the time by admiring sunlight hitting the many different fall colors of the leaves.

In the middle of my admiring, I heard a rustle of leaves. My father instantly perked up raising his gun, scoping out what was going on. We soon found the thing that had disturbed our serene quiet. It was a young doe. Beautiful, long, and strong. My mouth instantly dropped, marvelling in the beautiful creature that was standing so close to our perch. My father snapped me out of my admiration with an excited whisper; "Rosalie, now position your shot. It's your time. Remember what I said don't hesitate."

I quickly held up my rifle finding the perfect angle for the shot, right at the young doe's torso, hopping for a quick and clean finish. For only an instance, I saw the young doe's dark eyes flash with fear, but all too soon the look vanquished as I heard the bullet leaving my gun and hitting it right where I wanted it to.

My father looked at me in admiration; "Beautiful shot." But I was too shocked to registrar my father's pride in me. I couldn't believe it. I had killed that beautiful creature.

My father quickly dragged me out of the tree, awaking me from the cloud of shock that came with my first kill. He hurriedly moved towards the carcass. As we approached I saw the sadness in my fathers eyes and then it hit me. The deer was still alive! Looking down at the beautiful doe I first saw it's eyes. Eyes I would never forget. Eyes that would haunt me for the rest of my life. I looked at those eyes that were once filled with light now gone. It was still alive though, eyes and legs twitching with the last bitter slow pains of life. Even though it's eyes seem to see, it was if it was seeing something, something not here. Dead yet alive.

I quickly started to hyperventilate, clutching my father's arm I screamed; "Please Daddy, please. We have to leave. Something is wrong with it, I did something wrong. Why does it look like that?" I dug my nails deeper into his arm.

He quickly shoved me back. Looking angry; "What's wrong with you? This shit happens sometimes. Sometimes you shot the deer and it doesn't die right away. We just have to put it out of its misery."

"But it's...it's eyes. Why... What's wrong with it?" I screeched, the tears now coming stronger.

"Knock it the fuck off" my dad raised his hand to me then quickly pulled it away, ashamed. He did this a lot, reacted angrily when he didn't know or understand something, frustrated only in himself. He quickly turned away, ignoring my muffled sobs as he took the knife and stuck it in the deer's head.

The deer seemed to let out a sigh and then it ceased to move. It's eyes finally dull and lifeless. My father turned back to me, some of his anger seeming to dissipate as he said dully; "Let's go." He knelt down to fix the drag bag around the carcass, as I stood near him, willing myself to stifle my sobs trying to get rid of the image of the dying deer.

Soon my father had the drag bag fixed. We didn't speak the whole long way back to the house. Eventually I went numb reflecting on how ugly this day was. It was cold and bitter out, ruffled dead leaves preparing for winter crunched as I walked home, brown, ugly and dead.

As we reached home I saw my mother and my four year old sister,Audrey, running out to greet us. Both had the same curly hair flying back and excited green eyes. As soon as they caught up to us, my mother noticed my father's numb expression and my tear-stained cheeks. Audrey babbled happily about something she did today and I just stared at her blankly wishing I could be as naive as her. My mother didn't say a word and swept Audrey up and silently continued ahead of us back towards the house. My father parted from me to take the deer to the barn.

I ran into the house, breathing heavy. I needed my mother, I needed her to comfort me. I went into the family room and saw her standing over my newborn sister, Miranda's crib, checking on her sleep. I cautiously approached my mother. As soon as she saw me she swept me into a hug; "Shhh baby girl everything's gonna be okay." She strocked my hair silently as I sobbed in her arms. Eventually she led me to the bedroom holding me until I fell asleep.

I woke up later in my room. Looking out the window, I realised it was dusk. As I sat up in bed the memories of the day came flooding back fast to me. I tried to shake them off but the tears started to well up again. Angry words disturbed my torturing thoughts, eventually realising they were my parents.

I rose from my bed standing at the edge of the stairwell. I heard my father say angrily to my mother; "It's not my fault Darlene. I guess she wasn't ready. She's not like I thought she was."

"It's not about what you thought she was! It's about what she experienced today" my mother shouted. She moved closer to him her voice become gentler as she touched his arm; "just talk to her about it honey, talk to her about death. I don't think she understood..."

"No!" He screamed as he jerked away from her. "It's not about understanding anything. You know what? It's just like you girls, putting so much emotion into something that doesn't need it, it's a deer for Christ's sake."

"It's more than that and you know it!" My mother said as she started to cry.

My father quickly balled up his fists and blew a large sigh. "I gotta get the fuck outta here for a little" he mumbled running out the door.

My mother collapsed on the floor, sobbing. I wanted to comfort her but I didn't know how. So I turned my back on her and returned to my bedroom, shutting the door and returning to my bed.

I stayed up for hours staring at nothing, seeing only the image of the deer and my mother collapsed on the floor.

I never went hunting again but I did witness the eyes of that deer again. Not only in my dreams but also my reality. I witnessed it as my father raised another can of beer to his lips, as his eyes began to glaze over, numb to what was going on around him. I witnessed it in my mother's bruised face, as the light and excitement eventually disappeared from her bright green eyes. Dulling them as she became number and quieter as the beatings grew more consistent. Eventually I saw these eyes everyday, in the faces of people I knew and didn't know. As the fever claimed their mind and when they came back to life forgetting who they once were only knowing the flesh they craved.

Maybe that day prepared me for what to come but I know I would do anything to go back before the day. Back when my parents were alive, back when I didn't have to survive day-for-day. Back before the world went to shit.