e crushing weight of betrayal and the phantom pain of my last moments were still

prison for the next fifteen years in my past life.

loor. He was only six years old. A small, skinny kid with big, tear-filled eyes. In my first life, my

saw the ghost of the man who

ed. "Are Mom and Dad

ld-hearted monster he would become warred in my mind. I felt a flicker of pity, but it was q

aid, my voice flat

ort him. I simply stepped over hi

y were all part of the lie, I realized. They all probably susp

red the burden without a single complaint. I dropped out of high school just weeks before my own graduation. My acce

g job the week after the funeral. I juggled homework for Alex, parent-teacher conferences, and double shifts.

arded like a piece of tr

my aunt Susan said, placing a hand on my

the others. Their faces w

" I

silent. Everyo

o?" Uncle Robert ask

I said, my voice

her grip tightening. "What will peopl

he word taste

in those coffins," I

h the room. My aunt

y things," Robert said, trying to s

the eye. "Or are you just wo

obert had co-signed a large loan for my father. He was jus

! You will go to that funeral, and yo

bitter sound that startled

. I' ll give you a perform

t myself in the mirror. The girl staring back was young and lost, but her eyes held a darkness that wasn'

rvivor. And she was going to bur

high. Alex was still in the hallway, lo

voice softer but still firm.

This was the hand of my future killer. I

ake him brilliant, successful, and a shining beacon of hope. A beacon so bright that his gr

y did, I wou

d, a little too ti

ispered, leaning down. "I'

t see the storm raging behind my calm expression. He couldn' t kno

first act. My performa