OK people, wonderful people, I am so sorry it as taken me so long to update. It's just that well, I had intensive writers block on this chapter, and every time I tried to write it I didn't like how it came out, so I kept deleting what I was writing. But I have this now. So have fun reading.

And this chapter is dedicated to my wonderful reviewer Robert Gutheim for helping me with this chapter.

Misty Memories

"Mom," I asked after the door had been shut, "What is Dad talking to them about?"

"Nothing you need to worry your little head about," Mom replied. Typical. I don't get to know anything! Ever!

"But Mom," I started to protest. She cut me off with a sharp glare. She handed me a black night gown and a towel. "You know Mom, I could have just grabbed this stuff myself."

"Don't talk back young lady," Mom reproached calmly, "now go upstairs and take a shower. Bring those pants back when you're done!" Shame, I liked these pants. But then I have at least six more pairs of them. The shower was quite fast, seeing as I hate long showers. The water was as hot as I could stand it (which is almost straight hot water), followed by lots of soap, and shampoo. Then get out, dry off and get into the night gown. Doesn't take that long. After quickly brushing out my hair, I grabbed my clothes and exited the room. I quickly dropped the uncontaminated clothes and dropping them in my room and then walked down to the 'sacrificing' floor.

Mom was bent over a little open fireplace, with a door, setting in wood. The flame had yet to be started. Not noticing I was in the room yet, she sprayed the wood with what looked to be bug spray. Great for building fires.

"What do I do with these?" I asked after she had put the spray down. She jumped slightly, obviously she didn't know I was their, and turned around. I held out the pants.

"Place them on the table. Front side up," she ordered, standing up herself. OK simple enough. Personally I thought they would just be tossed into a fire. Mom came over looked at the pants, and then she ironed them! Why would anyone in their right iron something that you were about to burn? But she ironed them, flipped them over and ironed the other side.

"Mom," I asked tentatively, "why are you ironing them? I thought you were going to burn them."

"I will be," Mom replied putting the iron down, "but we have to get them ready to be burnt." OK then, just when I figure I have everything figured out, I go get hit with a curve ball. Mom then sprinkled the pants with what looked like spices, ironed the spices in, and dabbed a small small amount of gasoline onto them, folded them up nicely and placed them neatly on top of the pile of wood.

"Do you need a match or anything?" I asked staying by the table, this whole process is weird. It's almost like getting used to the fact that Mom and Dad kill people all over again. Now that was a creepy feeling.

"No thank you," Mom said, "you go on upstairs. You don't need to see the rest of this." OK, fine with me. I tip-toed up the stairs, Dad might still be talking to Dominic and Damien. I tried to listen in at the door, but I didn't hear anything, so I figured I could go in and not be in trouble. I knocked on the door and stuck my head in; they were sitting at the table, with a deck of cards, and playing some game. Was this what they didn't want me to see? Wow, that is sad.

"Can I come in?" I asked uneasily.

"Aren't you helping your mother?" Dad asked.

"She kicked me out," I responded.

"Alright, but be quite," Dad said. Yes! Finally, I'm included in something! I quietly closed the door, and slid into my chair at the table. They started to talk as they played their game.

"As I was saying, you two are going to have to be more careful. We can not have outside trash noticing what is going to happen," Dad said, now is he just repeating this for my sake, or did I actually interrupt this, 'cause I'm sure Dad would have said all this before, "make sure no one and I mean no one, is looking when you go into the woods. No more lights upstairs," we never use lights anyway, "no more going off on your own. I know you two can take care of yourselves," what about me? I can take care of myself too, "but I don't want you to be wandering off and someone seeing you. And don't forget to keep a watchful eye on your sister!" I swear they think I'm five.

"But Dad, we know all this already," Damien said, "we don't do any of that stuff anyway." He got the back of Dad's hand on his cheek.

"Well I want you to extra cautious," Dad said coldly, "and you ever talk back to me again young man."

"Yes Sir," Damien said quietly, "sorry."

"And be extra careful tonight. Your mother and I are going to take the trash out. I don't want anyone to see you three while we're out and get any ideas, am I clear?" he demanded. Both Dominic and Damian replied with 'Yes sir's' and I just nodded. I'm supposed to be quite remember. "Very good." He collected the cards, shuffled them and dealt them out again, this time including me in on the game; I don't even know what we're playing, "Now Patricia, I see you have been out with your brothers again today. What were you learning today?"

Oh the sarcastic remarks that I could once again make. But not to Dad. Sarcastic remarks become fatal remarks when said to Dad. "Trust," I simply said.

"A good lesson to learn," Dad said, "how long did it take."

"All afternoon," Damien put in.

"That was shorter then it took you," Dad said looking at Damien, "It took you all morning, afternoon, and half the night." Damien blushed and looked down at his cards. I still have no clue what were playing. It reminded me of old maid, crazy eights, and poker. "Do you boys plan to take her through it again tomorrow."

"I think we should," Dominic said, "just to make sure she's completely learned her lesson."

"Do you agree Damien?" Dad asked, sounding like he was expecting Damien to agree.

"Oh, yes sir," Damien said quickly.

"And you Patricia?"

"Practice makes perfect," I said not looking away from my cards, I decided not to add the 'I guess' that would have been so perfect right there.

"Good choices," Dad said finishing off the round of cards just as Mom popped her head in the door.

"John dear," she said, "Patricia's pants are burning, and the sacrificed bodies are bagged. Could you help carry them upstairs?"

"Of course," Dad said putting his cards down. Dominic instantly claimed the cards and started to shuffle them. Within ten minutes Mom and Dad were back upstairs, all in black layers, carrying bulky garbage bags and left to go upstairs. Hidden in one of the spare bedrooms was two shopping carts. Mom and Dad would pretend to be homeless people and walk around town with there bags in the shopping carts, not quite together, until everyone around the dump site are gone, then they put the bodies were they are to go, dropping the bags in the dumpster close to home on their way back.

They had been gone for about an hour when I finally gave up trying to play the card game with my brothers. They were way better at it. Instead I just watched, maybe if I could figure it out, then I would be able to play it better. They were both silent, probably trying to concentrate, and I was almost falling asleep on the table. It was quite peaceful, and then a sound came from upstairs. A dinging sound. I looked up at Damien who was looking at Dominic.

"It's just the doorbell," Dominic whispered collecting the cards to shuffle again. "Just let them think no one is home. You in on this round Pixie?" I shook my head. "OK." The doorbell rang again, followed by banging on the door upstairs.

"I thought you said they'd think no one's home," I accused Dominic in a whisper.

"Well that's what they usually think," Dominic said continuing the card game, obviously trying to remain cool, but a tiny line of sweat was appearing about his bruised eye. "They'll go away. Don't worry."

I was going to believe him. Honestly I was. Why would he lie about that? People usually do go away after they relies that we aren't there. So I was going to believe him. Honestly and truly, until I faintly heard a voice from upstairs, "Police! Open up!"

For the record, yes I know I am evil, leaving a cliffie after such a long long break from the story, but it was the only way I could think of ending it. I promise I will try to update more often.

Thank you for reading.

Please review.

Rebellion Author.