What's left of the family, the family that tormented and ridiculed me, is standing over body blown to bits, covered in blood and gut and bone. He won't shut up. He never shut up. I pick him up by the hair, tears and jerks and screams shooting out from flailing face and limbs. I almost feel sorry for him for a second until he screams, "You killed Daddy!" into my ear. That's right Austin, I did kill daddy. I take him up the stairs, over the trail of death again. I fill up the bathtub, nice and cold and send him to a gurgling, watery, grave.