***A Little Over 20 Years Ago

It was hot...and not just a regular kind of hot but a stupid hot. Christopher McDaniels hated days like this. Days when the Texas heat was so strong even the palms of his hands would sweat. He wiped his hands against his jean shorts. He wanted to play basketball but there was no one willing to play with him.

He had asked his father who simply answered, "No way kid. It's too damned hot out there."

Christopher just glared at his father who probably wouldn't have played with him even if the weather had been cooler.

He wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand and ran to a window of their home in the woods. Through the window, he could see his brother Tom and sister Beatrice talking to their father, Vincent McDaniels.

"Tom, I told you that the knife is dangerous and you can't use it to hunt." Vincent McDaniels was smiling as he held a butcher knife up in the air and out of reach from Tom's grasping hands.

"Dad!" Tom was trying to reach for the knife, "Me and Beatrice want to catch a squirrel."

"Noooo," Beatrice stomped her right foot, "I want to play princess and dragons!"

"Beatrice, the squirrel can be the dragon."

For a moment, Beatrice mulled over what Tom had said, then smiled, "Okay!"

Vincent McDaniels laughed. Christopher scowled. His father never smiled at him. He never laughed with him either.

"Idiots," he whispered.

He walked back to the driveway and began dribbling his basketball when Tom and Beatrice came running outside.

"Chris!" Tom looked excited, "Want to hunt squirrels with us?"

Christopher was torn. He wanted to hunt for squirrels but he didn't want to spend time with Tom and Beatrice. "No thanks," he said as he began bouncing his basketball again.

"Okay. We'll be out in the flower field if you want to join us," Tom said as he held Beatrice's hand and they ran together towards the woods. The flower field was a small patch of land covered in wild flowers that the kids loved to lay down in.

Christopher was about to walk back inside the house when he heard his parents fighting.

"You're going there again?" Lucinda McDaniels asked.

"Yes. I told you I need to go for research."

"Vincent...how much research could you possibly need? When are you going to stop writing? It's not like you need to anymore. Your last book made us well off."

"Lucinda you know this book is important to me."

"I do know...I just don't understand why you have to go to that police officer's home all the time. What's his name? Officer Torres?"

"I have to go Lucinda."

"And what about Tom? What if he has another one of his blackouts? What should I do?"

"Do what any other mother would do...call 911." Vincent laughed, "I'll be home before dinner." He stepped outside when he saw Christopher.

"Oh...you didn't join your brother and sister to play?"

"Nah...hey dad?"

"Yeah?" Vincent was unlocking the door to his car.

"Do you want to play some basketball?"

Vincent grimaced, "Sorry son. I have an important meeting set up. Maybe another day okay?"

"Okay." Christopher watched his father drive away and he looked over to where Tom and Beatrice were playing. He tossed his basketball aside and began walking to the flower field. He saw Beatrice picking white flowers and forming a circle with them.

"What's that going to be?" Christopher asked her.

"My crown. It's pretty right?" She smiled at him, revealing a missing tooth.

Christopher looked at her flower crown which was composed of simple white wild flowers. "How come you don't add in some pink and yellow flowers?"

"I like it this way. All white like my dress," she bent down and continued picking white flowers to add to her crown. Christopher noticed a family of butterflies and frowned. He hated butterflies. In school he learned that butterflies were constantly changing. They started off as an ugly caterpillar, stayed in a cocoon, and then became what his teacher described as "beautiful butterflies." Christopher didn't understand what was wrong with them just staying caterpillars. The teacher had made it seem as though being a caterpillar wasn't good enough. Christopher felt like he was a caterpillar and his brother and sister were butterflies. He caught a butterfly and squashed it in his hands.

"Where's Tom?" Christopher asked after wiping the remains of the butterfly on his shirt.

"Stop killing butterflies Chris. They're pretty. Tom went past the trees."

Christopher left Beatrice alone to find Tom. He spotted him, holding the butcher knife and trying to climb a tree. "Tom! Does dad know you took the knife?"

Tom laughed at him, "Nope! I took it when he wasn't looking."

"How are you going to use the knife to kill squirrels anyway?"

"I'll slice their necks open!"

Christopher wasn't surprised by Tom's ferociousness. The boys and Vincent often went hunting and Tom really enjoyed watching their kills die. Tom began climbing the tree as he had seen a squirrel on one of the branches. Christopher watched as Tom tried swinging the knife at the squirrel but he accidently dropped it.

"Hey Christopher! Can you pick up my knife? I dropped it," Tom shouted.

Christopher rolled his eyes and picked up the knife. "Toss it up here," Tom called down to his brother.

"Are you crazy? That's dangerous. Just come down and get it."

"No way, just toss it up."

Christopher smirked, "Okay I'm going to throw it up to you so be ready."

"I'm ready. Throw it!"

Christopher pretended to throw the knife in the air but he really kept it in his grasp. Tom thought that Christopher had actually thrown the knife and made for an empty grab into the air. He lost balance and fell from the tree.

"Oh crap! Are you okay Tom?"

Tom didn't open his eyes. Christopher could still see the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive. The fall must've knocked him out or something. Christopher waited with Tom for a few minutes before walking away with the knife tucked in the back of his jeans.

He walked to where Beatrice was laying in the grass. She had finished her white crown of flowers and he thought that she looked like a real princess waiting for her prince to wake her up. Christopher frowned. He didn't believe in fairytales. He watched his sister napping in the grass, her eyes closed. He wondered what would happen if instead of a prince, she was awoken by the villain. Christopher smiled as he pulled out the knife he had taken from Tom.

A Few Hours Later

"Christopher have you seen Beatrice?" Lucinda asked her son.

"No. She went with Tom to the woods...did you ask him?"

"Tom!" she called out.

Tom came into the kitchen with Lucinda and Christopher. Lucinda asked him, "Have you seen your sister?"

Tom shook his head, "I went to look for squirrels but she said she wanted to pick flowers."

The sound of Vincent McDaniels' car pulling into the driveway got all of their attention. Lucinda McDaniels left the boys to tell Vincent about their missing daughter.

Christopher stared at Tom who was looking pretty scared. He smiled. "Hey Tom...are you okay?"

Tom didn't answer him but ran upstairs. Christopher followed him into his room. "What happened Tom? You know you can tell me anything."

"I don't know what happened," Tom whispered. He went in his closet and pulled out the shirt and shorts he had been wearing earlier. They had blood on them.

"Tom who's blood is this? Is it from an animal?"

"I don't know. I woke up under a tree and I was all bloody but I don't know how it happened?"

"Did you see Beatrice?"

"No. I ran home and snuck inside so mom didn't see me."

Christopher nodded in understanding, "Tom. This looks crazy. You know mom and dad already think you're insane because of your blackouts."

"That's not my fault! Dad said it was the medicines I take that make that happen."

"Still..." Christopher took the clothing from Tom. "Let me throw these away for you. You should take a shower in case you got animal blood on you. Dad won't be happy when he finds out you took the knife."

"The knife!" Tom started to worry, "I lost the knife."

"Don't worry about it. Just go take a shower."

Tom listened to Christopher and was thankful that his brother was willing to help him in his confusion. After Tom left his room to take a shower, Christopher folded the bloody clothes and hid them in one of Tom's drawers and above the bloody knife he had hidden earlier.

Meanwhile

Vincent McDaniels was out searching for his daughter. It was going to be dark soon. His wife had told him that Beatrice had been in the flower field. He went that way as a light breeze began to surround him. He saw a white dress flapping in the wind.

"Beatrice!" Vincent made his way over to his daughter. He saw his daughter on the ground and he felt his heart stop.

She was dead.

His blonde princess wore a crown of white flowers on her head. It matched her crisp white dress which was a stark contrast to the dark crimson stain of blood on her chest.

Vincent wasn't sure how long he stood there before he noticed his wife Lucinda was behind him screaming. He only knew that he would eventually get revenge on whoever was responsible for killing his one and only daughter.

Later that Night

The police were just leaving. They suspected a possible drifter that had been seen in the area as Beatrice's murderer. Lucinda had gone stir crazy and began cleaning everything in sight. She was currently making her way through the boys' rooms. Tom and Christopher were sent with Lucinda's brother, Roger, for the night.

"Vincent! Vincent come here now!"

Vincent went upstairs and followed Lucinda's voice. She was in Tom's room and she was holding up a bloody shirt and pair of shorts.

"What's that?"

"What the hell do you think it is Vincent? Your son killed our daughter!"

"Don't accuse Tom. He wouldn't dare hurt Beatrice. He loves her."

Lucinda then pulled out a bloody knife from the drawer, "Then what the hell is this Vincent? A love letter? Oh my God. What are we going to do? How are we supposed to tell the police?"

"Police?"

"Yes. Police. How are we supposed to explain that Tom killed his own sister? God, they'll want to send him to one of those insane asylums."

"No!" Vincent shouted, "We're not telling the police."

"What? We have to!" Lucinda was hysterical.

"No Lucinda. We don't and we aren't. We have to protect Tom too. It's not his fault. He takes those meds and they make him do crazy things."

"Why are you protecting him when he killed your daughter? Do you not care about Beatrice at all?"

"Of course I care about her but she's dead! Tom's still alive."

Lucinda stared at her husband. She didn't understand why he wanted to keep this a secret until something dawned on her, "You don't want anyone to know because it might affect your book sales."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The great Vincent McDaniels...the prolific writer that almost won a Pulitzer Prize for his last book has a murdering son. And he didn't just murder anyone...he murdered his own sister."

"Shut the hell up Lucinda. That's not it at all. I'm doing this for Tom."

"Then I hope you give up your writing Vincent. If you release another book...I'll tell the truth and it'll ruin your reputation."

"Do you know how crazy you sound right now?"

Lucinda laughed, "Do I sound crazy? I must be...my daughter just died. No she was just murdered. I have the right to sound crazy." She left the room, leaving Vincent alone. He had to think about what to do next.

The Next Day

Roger was not Christopher and Tom's favorite person. He drank too much and had a bad temper. It wasn't a lovely combination.

Vincent drove up to the house and knocked on Roger's door. He was let in and Christopher and Tom were waiting in the living room. They noticed he was carrying a green suitcase with him. "Tom go wait in the car. Christopher, I need to talk to you alone."

Tom gave his brother a worried look before complying with his father's orders.

Vincent sat down next to Christopher and sighed, "Chris. Your mother and I talked about this last night and we think it would be safest for you if you stayed with your Uncle Roger from now on."

"What?"

"We want you to live with Uncle Roger."

"No! Why can't I stay with you and mom?"

"Tom is sick and we don't want you two living in the same house."

"Then tell Tom to live with Roger!"

"No Christopher. Roger couldn't handle Tom's behaviors. I'm sorry son."

After Vincent had left, Christopher sat alone in his uncle's living room. He thought of yesterday's events and felt numb. He walked outside and sat on the porch. A pale white and yellow butterfly flew around him, making him upset. He refused to feel guilty about yesterday. Even after his sister died, he was still treated like he wasn't good enough by being sent to live with his uncle. Christopher frowned as the butterfly perched on his knee. "Stupid butterfly." He quickly killed it and couldn't help but feel that he was an ugly tainted caterpillar that would never transform into a beautiful butterfly.

***

A/N: This was written in a couple of hours so I apologize for any typos. It was fun and I may be tempted to write another extra chapter of when David and Vincent met and the night of the fire with David and Christopher. I'm not sure yet. Thanks for reading. :)