The first thing Lucille Sharpe remembered was coldness.

Hunger.

Fear.

She had cried and cried, but no one had come. No one had lifted her up and comforted her. Her mother's touch had never been gentle or comforting. It had been rough. Cold. Hateful.

Lucille had never seen her mother smiling at her. Her eyes had always been cold and her words cruel. They had tainted Lucille's mind. There was nothing but coldness and fear. Lucille had learned to fear her mother as well as her father. He hadn't been cold like her mother; he had been loud and mean. Violent.

To Lucille the world had always been a very dark and scary place; she had never met another human being who she didn't have to be afraid of.

Then her mother had brought something to the nursery. A tiny bundle wrapped inside a blanket. Her mother had told Lucille to stay away from the bundle. Lucille had tried to obey, but she had been curious. She had looked inside the crib and seen something amazing.

A smile.

The tiny creature had smiled at her. No one had ever smiled at her. She had stared at the creature until her mother had returned and roughly grabbed Lucille's hair. She had cried because of the pain, but she had still returned to the crib whenever she could.

Something had changed for good. The creature belonged to her and she had protected him ever since.

Thomas. Her brother. The only one who had ever smiled at her. He was hers, only hers and she would never let anyone take him from her.