The day my life ended was a happy one. I remember my Mom setting up the dinner table and my Dad twirling me through the air like a plane. We sat down at the table and ate the most delicious meal I have ever eaten. I can still recall the taste of the homemade macaroni, cheese, and broccoli I was so proud of helping with. It was the only way Mom could get me to eat vegetables, letting me chop them up carefully and adding it to normal five year old food. I remember this day in a warm hazy kind of way...like one of those old postcards. 

Right before dessert, warm crumbling oatmeal raisin cookies that I loved so much, there was a knock at the door. This wasn't unusual, Mom and Dad normally got plenty of visitors. I giggled as Mom shot Dad an annoyed look and slapped him with the towel she was using to clean up. He tickled me and said something I can't quite remember that earned him another slap from Mom. Laughing, he jogged over to the door and began talking to our guest. I had forgotten about him and was watching my mom come out with those wonderful spelling cookies when, all at once, a shot rang out and my dad collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood. 

An army of men in suits flooded the house and without hesitation one of those blurry faceless men shot my mom. I can still remember the look of cold indifference on his face as he stepped over my father's dead body into the house. His gaze traveled over the house with an almost...bored look on his face. 

Suddenly I heard the click of a gun being cocked and I looked up into the face of the man who was about to kill me, and yet I can't remember his face. I can only remember his face, the face of the man who simultaneously saved me and killed me. He held up his hand, signaling the man to lower his gun, and slowly knelt before me. He didn't say a word, he just stared at me with those terrifying golden eyes and extended his hand. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't understand that my parents were gone forever but I somehow knew that if I put my small hand in his, everything would be okay. Maybe it was his eyes. They had been so cold but now they regarded me with an interest I didn't understand and a strange warmth. 

As soon as my hand touched his, everything erupted into chaos. He picked me up and carried me to his car as the men trashed the house. I don't know what happened next. All I can remember is crying myself to sleep in his arms as the house where my happiest memories were born, was burned to the ground.