"castle" and "candle"
It seems I'm playing a game of 'how screwed up can we make Matt?'
At three years old, Cassy adored our step-mom. (And, truth be told, so did I.)
She was fantastic. She was upbeat, out-going, energetic, caring, and loving. She called Cassy her Princess and called me her Warrior (because I was obsessed with warriors and fighting as a five year old). She had met Dad a year after our real Mom died. She took on the mother figure that we had lost in our lives.
But she had sleeping problems. So she took pills that helped her sleep. But once she took them, nothing could wake her up. She was out like a light.
Like I said, Cassy adored her. She wanted to be just like her. And one of the things she saw her do was light candles when she took a bath.
No matter how many times I tried, my step-mom wouldn't wake up. When the flames grew, I called the police.
"Hello? The bathroom's on fire and Mommy won't wake up. Cassy fell asleep in the tub."
And so it was the princess burned her castle down.