It was a normal day. He hadn't been expecting anything in particular to happen. He definitely hadn't expected today to be the beginning of the end of his life. He had been walking down a sidewalk, juggling a pile of textbooks, a bottle of water, a shopping bag, and a cell phone squeezed between his shoulder and his ear. He hummed into it, only half-listening to the person on the other end, much more interested in trying to eat the blueberry muffin he had settled on top of the whole pile without the use of his hands and without dropping anything.

It was a lot harder than it sounded.

He reached a crossing lane and blinked, watching the cars zip by incredulously as he glanced between them and the button at chest-height and groaned.

'Kyle? Is something wrong?' The person on the other end frowned.

He rolled his eyes. "No, mom, I'm fine. Stop worrying so much." He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, wondering if he could lift his leg high enough to hit the button. Then he mentally kicked himself for being such an idiot and used his elbow to reach the button and settled back to wait.

'Yes, yes, always fine.' His mom answered impatiently. 'You know, I would appreciate a little more detail sometimes. Ever since we sent you off to school you've been so distant.'

"Sorry, mom. I'm just busy with studying. I don't want to let you down again."

'I know honey, and we're proud you're trying so hard, just make time for us sometimes okay?" He could see the worried look on her face, the way her eyebrows folded together, and her blue eyes narrowed anxiously.

He sighed. "Yes, mom. How's Lilly, by the way?"

He imagined her face brightening, as it always did when he mentioned his sister's name. Her whole body would relax and she would smile so wide, it could light up a room, and she seemed to shed ages as she chattered animatedly about her youngest child. Her daughter. 'Oh, she's doing amazing! She's going to her first sleepover, with her friend Anne. You remember Anne? The one with curly black hair? She's such a doll…'

Kyle rolled his eyes upwards, and noted the green, walk sign flash. He stepped off the sidewalk and began the trek to the other side of the street, slowly, and being sure to flash smiles at the driver's, hoping to ease their annoyance at his snail's pace. He really didn't want to drop anything.

'She misses you a lot too, you're all she talks about.'

He closed his eyes, picturing his mother. She would be soft now, on the verge of a smile, with, crack! Kyle blinked, uncomprehending. "Mom?" He wondered. A scream, definitely through the phone, and he stopped in the middle of the street. "Mom?"

Crash! A plea for help…"Mom!?"

Someone honked and he glared fiercely, channeling every inch of his killer instinct into a venomous look and purposefully dropping everything he was holding to prove his point. Then he turned his back to them, focusing only on the phone. "Mom? Are you okay?"

'No! No please! It was a mistake…accident…mean to…'

"Mom!?"

There was a choked gasp, a gurgle, and he recognized the sound with dread pooling deep in his gut, memories from so long ago surfacing. It was the sound of someone's last breath, when someone had slit their throat. It was very distinct, garbled with blood and wet and raspy and filled with pain. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mom?" He whispered hoarsely.

'Honey…sorry…remember…the…daisies…' And then there was nothing. His phone beeped and he pulled it away, gazing at it blankly. His mom had hung up. His hand tightened around the cell. He was completely ignorant of the symphony of honking horns, and the curses that rained down on him, and the enraged shouts. All he heard were her last words…her last breath…

His mind abruptly kicked into overdrive, drowning everything else under a barrage of bubbling thoughts that spilled over, burying any sorrow. Someone had slit her throat. That had happened for a reason, judging by the way she acted. Revenge, or she could have had something they wanted. What? She had said remember the daisies. A strange choice of final words. Could it be…?

Then there was a screech of tires. A car careened around a corner, speeding forward, uncaring of the red light's, and Kyle didn't move, too stunned. His eyes widened and he tried to force his body to listen to him, to jump, but he only managed to lunge halfway before the car hit. It clipped his hip, sending him tumbling violently onto the concrete and his head smashed into the ground, and it all went black.