After two weeks I was healed enough that I could go home. Only problem was that my family was all dead. They all died in the fire I lived through. Only it was an arson.
I learn't about what had happened because Doctor Collin came in and read the news paper to me everyday.
As it turned out my Granddad had done the tragic mistake of upsetting some boy racers who had woken me up during my daily nap. As a perfect revenge, they planned silently, waiting for the opportunity.
So of course my Mum had to go and have a big party with all the relatives at one place. Soon it became dark and my parents moved inside and left me outside watching butterflies flutter away and the day close. (They were watching me from the window as they could see me in my crib.)
This is when they attacked. Using old wooden planks to line along the outside of the house, they splashed gasoline on every plank, ready to light. Only they didn't realize that inside my dad had stored gas bottles for the BBQ. The mass of the explosion killed most instantly. Not me though I'm that 00.1% chance of living compared to the 99.9% chance of death.
They were flawless, except for one MAJOR fault that lead to there capture. The death of one of their own.
This lead to their capture, all of them. Prison for life. Only two made it out, saying drugs was and influence- yeah right.
I wanted my family back. I wanted to be loved again.
I wanted revenge.
