Everyone has a begining. Everyone is innocent at one time. Even a serial killer. My mom held on to him in a vice grip, trying to stop him. She turned his attention to her fragile body. Her blonde hair was lose around her shoulders, framing her face. Her blue eyes were wide and afraid, but she held her ground. He threw her against the wall as I screamed for her. He kicked her ribs as I scrambled out from under the bed. "Run!" she yelled at me as he landed a blow to her fragile face. Her nose became a fountain of ruby red blood. "GO!" she yelled again on a gasp. I ran.