The Blood We Shed

Chapter 1 - Daisy

I woke up to my pink alarm clock in my bedroom like a normal ten-year-old would every morning. At least I thought so.

I was going camping with my family and was so excited to finally travel after finishing fourth grade. It was the first day of summer, and it was already going off to a good start. I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the long drive ahead. I brushed my teeth in my baby blue bathroom, still wearing my pale green pajamas.

Once I got out of the shower and into my clothes, I waited for my mom to brush my hair out like she did for me every morning. I admired myself in the mirror. I observed my messy dark brown hair, which fell below my shoulders and matched perfectly with my blue eyes. I was wearing a pastel purple T-shirt with some denim shorts. The shorts had daisies on them.

I was named after the flower because of its simplicity and how it was still so beautiful. I waited for ten minutes, but my mom still didn't arrive. I decided to go and see what was taking her so long and found her just watching TV on the couch.

I asked her, "Why are you watching TV? You're supposed to brush my hair like you usually do."

My mom paused the show she was watching and turned to face me, arrogantly replying, "Shouldn't you be doing this stuff by yourself now?"

I couldn't believe it. My mom didn't care about me in the slightest. Typical.

I went back upstairs, outraged. I brushed my hair out roughly and pulled it back with a blue headband once it was untangled and smooth. I grabbed my blue backpack filled with snacks and flung it over my shoulder. I grabbed my water bottle as well and headed for the car, picking up my Nintendo Switch and putting on my white sneakers along the way. My five-year-old brother Aiden was sucking on a cherry lollipop. I scowled.

Why didn't I get one? What did he even do to deserve it?

Our dad hauled our camping equipment and bags into the car, and we soon were on the road. I looked out the window for a bit, thinking. I couldn't wait to arrive, so I could finally prove that I wasn't worthless. My dad said I couldn't be trusted, while my mom couldn't care less. She always fussed over Aiden, with his perfect hair, playful eyes, and mischievous smile. I glared at him as he played on my Switch.

Life is not fair, no matter who you are.

I loved my life as a toddler. My parents loved me and encouraged me to go on to achieve my dreams. But once my brother was born, things changed.

He quickly became their favorite and started ruining my life. I wasn't amazing at school with my undiagnosed OCD and ADHD, but my parents didn't even consider that. When I got worse at school, my parents lost hope in me, since they wanted me to become a high-paying doctor to treat them for free (which was not even possible) and give them free rides in my future Maserati and fancy dinners at my future mansion.

I didn't even want those things! They lost hope for me and gained hope for Aiden since he was younger. That spoiled little brat!

We were traveling to a campsite that was in Kentucky, where we lived. We soon arrived after two hours, and we got our camp set up. My dad made me help with the fire since I was too worthless to do anything else, and then something strange happened.

While my dad was getting the bag of charcoal from the car, I teasingly stuck my finger over the fire and slowly touched it. The heat didn't even hurt me, but I got a small burn on my finger that kind of hurt. It wasn't enough to make me cry, though. I repeated the process until my whole hand looked smoky and burnt. It didn't look bad enough for my parents to worry about it, so I didn't worry about it either.

After we set the campfire ablaze, we prepared dinner. We had hotdogs with ketchup and mustard, and s'mores for dessert. We headed to bed with full stomachs, and I slept in between my dad and Aiden. As my family closed their eyes and fell into deep slumbers, I lay there, thinking about my insane plan.

If I could touch fire without getting seriously hurt, then my plan could work.

The previous night, I was thinking about flipping the blazing campfire onto my family's tent, first setting the grass on fire, so it can reach them slowly. When they smell smoke, they believe it is just the campfire. It was a very insane and intrusive thought, but I strangely craved for it to happen.

I had always been a psychotic child since I started being neglected. I once choked my friend from preschool for dying my Barbie's hair seasick green when I was five. She passed out and I was immediately removed from the preschool. I got grounded for a month.

That was alright though, because I felt like I could be myself in my room.I snuck out through the window since I was sleeping in the guest room at the time for a different punishment when I was seven. I went out after stealing ten dollars from my dad's wallet and ran to a gas station. I bought some sour candy and an ice cream cone. I pretended that the teenager next to me was my big sister/guardian, and I got away with it.

That night, I devoured my vanilla ice cream and kept the spare money and sour candy in my pocket.

I pranked my parents the next morning, and I wasn't blamed. She blamed it on the soup company and I just laughed, a sly smirk forming on my face when I turned around.I had anger issues according to the doctor, so I couldn't help it.

But besides those anger issues, I wanted to do this for a while. I wanted to let my family suffer for all they had done to me. I knew it wasn't even, but they kind of deserved it. I always believed in revenge. Why let someone go for hurting you when you could just hurt them back? Revenge was always fair, but what was done for revenge was never fair.

Life is unfair.

I followed that, so now it's their turn. I snuck out of the tent, drowning out my dad's constant snoring. I grabbed one firewood piece and picked it up, taking some flames up with it. I let out a hysterical giggle/laugh that sounded a bit off since it came from a girl that just finished fourth grade. I dropped it in front of my white sneakers, which now became a bit dirty and slightly burnt on the fronts.

I laughed as the fire broke out through our area, each spark leaping across the grass, eventually reaching the tent. It got caught on fire, and I soon heard shouts and screams. I felt a pang of guilt when I heard them.

I suddenly wanted to help them, but it was too late. I made the worst decision anyone could ever make. I ruined it all. It would have to stay ruined.

My laughs turned into cries as I stood there, holding two more firewood pieces and, crying out with guilt and pain, threw them onto the tent. I ran as fast as I could, away from the screaming that came from my family. My dad was shouting for help and...for me.

"DAISY! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

I sobbed as I ran. I ran until my lungs were on fire. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't care. I just had to get as far away from the fire as possible to not end up like my family. After what felt like hours of running, I eventually collapsed by a bus stop, sobbing.

Hi everyone! I'm aware of this chapter being extremely fast-paced and confusing, so let me know what improvements I could possibly make. I'll try to make this a reader-based book, where I write the book based off of the readers' thoughts. I want this book to be published probably next year or the year after, and I'm hoping to make it as good as possible. Love y'all!

- Sally Delaney, author of this book