Chapter 2

2

After Liam was born, he became the center of our universe. My parents, even Grandma, who moved in to help, focused all their attention on him. He seemed like a normal, happy little boy most of the time, all smiles and giggles, loving snacks and cartoons. But that cheerful facade could shift in a second. When Grandma wouldn't give him candy, he bit her arm, like a wolf, refusing to let go. I was watching TV, and as Mom carried him past, he grabbed the remote and smashed it against my head. Blood streamed down my face as he grinned.

When he was finally old enough for preschool, my parents spent a fortune to find a place that specialized in child development and emotional well-being. It didn't last long. The teachers called my parents in. An older kid had teased Liam, called him scrawny. During naptime, while the teacher was in the restroom, Liam snuck into the older kids' room, set a bedsheet on fire with a lighter, locked the door, and ran. If the teacher hadn't gotten back in time…

"Does your son watch violent TV shows?" the teacher asked, horrified. "I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s terrifying!"

The other parents demanded Liam be expelled. My parents apologized profusely, paid a hefty sum, and took him home. Liam stood there, chewing on his finger, watching them grovel. A teacher asked him why he was smiling.

"I wanted to watch them burn," he said.

Dad’s face went white. He slapped Liam across the face, sending him tumbling to the floor. Liam screamed. Everyone stared. Mom rushed to comfort him.

"It's Mommy's fault! I’m so sorry!"

That night, my parents had a huge fight.

"We should never have kept him!" Dad roared. "He’s a monster!"

"He’s your son!" Mom shrieked. "And he's here now! What good does it do to say that now?"

Dad wanted to argue, but he just sat down, defeated, leaving Mom to cry.