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They were murdered. she repeated. By whom?

His fists suddenly tightened. "I don't know! Don't you think if I knew that they would be dead by now!" he yelled angrily in her face, his chest heaving. She did not flinch.

Realizing what he had done, he suddenly backed down into his seat, his hands unclenching and his expression softening. Now he just looked depressed and hopeless again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell," he apologized. "It's just . . . it's just that this has been haunting me for years." He paused. "And after it happened, everything else went wrong too."

Where were you when your parents were killed? she asked.

He looked at the counter as he spoke. "We were all at the pond. It was winter, so we brought our ice-skates. I was only six, so I wasn't very good, but my parents helped me. We must have been out there for a while because I was getting better. I could stand and glide a few feet without my parents' help. I got out so I was probably fifteen feet away from them. I stopped to face them for a second to smile proudly after I went about five feet without falling. They were smiling at first, and then they had a sort of stricken look on their faces.

"I was kind of confused, and then they started screaming my name, telling me to get away, to come back to them. And suddenly, there was a huge bang on my head, and I was knocked to the ice. I kept going in and out of consciousness, and everything was blurred. I could hear it though.

"My mother screamed a terrible, agonizing cry. I had never heard any kind of sound like that ever in my life before. I also heard this sickening slashing sound. You can probably guess what happened.

"Right before I blacked out, all I remember was these horrible yellow eyes and a hideous scar in the shape of an x.

"When I woke up, I was still on the ice, but my parents weren't there anymore. I was afraid and confused; I had hoped that it was just a dream, that none of it had ever happened. It was strange because it was dark outside, and I had remembered it being light before.

"I stumbled over to where my parents had stood before, but they were gone. When I got a full view of that spot, I realized there was a large gap in the ice as if it had broke. I leaned over to look in the water. Instead of it being its normal dark blue, it was a terrible crimson red. I gasped and staggered back; it was a red as ––– well, blood.

"I got really scared, so I ripped off my skates and started tearing back to our house. I ripped through branches and snow, convinced that my parents would be waiting back in the living room with a warm, cozy fire and hot chocolate. But when I got there, I discovered something worse.

"I stood in front of the smoldering ruins of my only hope. I dropped to my knees before the smoking debris I used to call home. The house had been set on fire, and now the blazes had died down to only ashes and smoke.

"I kneeled there in the cold snow for a long time. I didn't care about the flaming hot cinders occasionally flying up and burning me. I didn't care about the painful ashes that surrounded me and I breathed. I didn't care about the smoke that encased my small lungs. All I cared about was my family. My parents. And they were gone.

"Even at six I knew that. They weren't back at the pond or the house. They were gone. Forever."

I see. she responded. You were sad?

"Unbelievably depressed is more like it," he laughed bitterly. He grew serious. "I had never felt that kind of pain before. I had always been protected and loved by my parents, and since they were suddenly wiped from my life, I figured I was nothing. Hopeless. Useless. Pathetic."

You believed that you were beyond repair, yes? she inquired solemnly.

He glanced at her, the irony bizarre. "Yes," he answered.

I do not agree. she responded. He stared at her. What was she talking about?

"What are you saying?" he asked harshly.

You can be repaired. Just wait and see.

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