Prologue

"Come on Cyn! Let's play hide-and-seek while waiting for daddy to come back, okay?" My mom

smiled at me, happy that I had somehow come up with a plan to keep Cynthia occupied so she

wouldn't have to. "Okay Alice!" I laughed to see my little sister, hopping up and down excitedly.

"Close your eyes Alice! You're it!" "Okay, okay" I replied. But my answer was lost on her since she

was now speeding rapidly up the stairs. I closed my eyes and started counting.

"One, two, three, four...ten, eleven...thirty! Ready or not, here I come!" I ran upstairs, knowing that

she'd be hidden somewhere up there. I went into her bedroom, peeking under the bed and in the

closet. "Cynthia" I said in a sing-song voice. "Where are you?" I started making my way out of the

room, moving slowly so as to keep the game going longer. That's when it happened. For a second,

everything was pure white. Then the vision came. I saw daddy. He was running, I wonder why? He

kept glancing behind him as if he was being chased. Maybe he was playing tag; but he didn't look

happy at all, no, he looked scared. I saw him dodge from side to side, trying to escape from the

little bullets that still managed to catch him. I saw the blood, the blood that blossomed like a rose

on his arm, dripped down his leg. But he was still running, he was still running as fast as he

possibly could and he was outrunning his pursuers. He had always been able to run so fast, but

when me and Cyn would play with him he'd run slowly so that we'd be able to tag him. And

sometimes, if we were lucky, he'd pick one of us up and run as fast as he could while carrying us. It

was like flying. Fly daddy fly! But all of a sudden he stopped. Why did you stop daddy? He looked

so startled, and he fell over so quickly. His hand was covering his stomach. So much blood. "No

daddy no! Get up daddy! Get up now! They're going to catch you! Please daddy...Please!" My throat

burned but I didn't stop pleading for him to get up, my voice seeming detached from the rest of me.

He didn't get up. "Daddy?" My vision faded, and I found myself back in Cynthia's room, shaking

back and forth on the floor. I couldn't stop crying. "Alice?" Cynthia was next to me, looking into my

face as if she could out what's wrong from it. "What's wrong Alice? Don't cry, look! You've found me

so everything's okay now." I sat there and just shook even more, my mind barely even

acknowledging her words. She seemed to conclude that whatever was going on was serious

because she ran downstairs, yelling for mom. "Mommy! Hurry please, Alice won't stop crying and

shaking and I don't know what's wrong!" I could hear her frantic shouting from all the way upstairs.

They both ran upstairs, I could feel the pounding of their feet as they made their way back up to

me. "Alice sweetie what's wrong?" Mommy hugged me tightly and I sunk gratefully into her

embrace. It was almost impossible to speak through my sobs, but I finally managed to choke out:

"It..It's daddy, he was running...and and...the bullets hit him...so much blood..." I gasped, my

cries growing fainter as I started to calm down. Mommy had a weird expression on her face as she gazed at me, a mixture of fear and...hate? No. Mommy loved me. "It's okay though right mommy?" I

asked. "It's just a dream, that's what you always tell me when this happens, it's not real..." She

continued to stare at me. "Right mommy?" Her facial expression went back to normal. "Of course

honey..." She was interrupted by the sound of gunshots coming from the street infront of our

house. We all sat there for a moment, the gunshots stopping as soon as they had started. She

looked at me again, the weird emotions flickering across her face. She looked so... scared. She

jumped up and ran down the stairs. I could hear the door slam behind her, me and Cynthia running

down the stairs after her. The screaming started as we reached the door.

"Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!" Mommy's voice was full of anguish as she screamed wordlessly to

the sky, daddy's body resting in her lap. Cynthia ran up to her. "Mommy? Why is daddy lying on

the ground like that? Why is he covered in red stuff? Mommy..." She hit the ground, cut off by

mommy's hateful slap. I ran to her and hugged her as she was crying. "Shhhhhhh" Cynthia's sobs

quieted after a minute, and I looked up to see mommy glaring at me. "Get away from my daughter

you... you monster!" She grabbed Cynthia and shoved me to the ground, coming closer to spit on

my face. "Mommy?" I whispered, hoping that in a second she'd pick me up and laugh, that this

was all just a big joke. "I'm not your mother. It's all your fault that he's dead! All your fault! You're

sick!" She spat on me again, then ran inside, dragging Cynthia with her. I sat there, too shocked to

cry or make a noise as I heard her call the police. I was still sitting there as an ambulance came

up and some people talked to her. I couldn't hear much of the conversation, just heard small bits.

"Mary Alice Brandon...unstable...sick...strange visions...mental institution." Two men picked me up

and shoved me in the back of the ambulance roughly, letting go of me and closing the doors as if

they couldn't even stand to touch me. As we drove away I saw Cynthia run after us, only to be

sharply caught by mommy who stopped her from waving. "Alice! come back Alice!" Though her

cries were soon silenced as well, they continued to haunt me relentlessly through the rest of the

drive.

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