chapter 1

It is a most joyous occasion when a child is born, but a most solemn one when a child dies. Jonathan was seven-years-old, lying in a hospital bed breathless, the last signs of his life slowly seeping away.

     People wept for Jonathan even though they wouldn�t miss him. They said he was born evil�that he�d killed his own mother even before he was born. Those who knew the whole truth knew there were no abusive parents to shed light upon in a hypnotic trance, nor was there a religious pedophiliac or ill-fated uncle to blame for torturing his mind and body. He was simply born with devious thoughts and devilish ways.

     His mother�s name was Clair. She was medium height and shapely with dark brown eyes shaped like teardrops turned sideways. She always wore her hair pulled back in a French braid to keep it from falling down in her face; she hated that. Even though Clair held a degree in psychology, she opted to stay home and live a simple life with her supporting and loving husband and try to start a family.

     Clair was hovering at the kitchen counter seasoning steaks for her husband�s dinner when Dr. Rudison�s office called her with news that she was pregnant with Jonathan. When she heard the words �you�re pregnant,� she began fluttering her hand like a winglet bird trying to take off and fly. �Thank you Jesus! Oh dear God, thank you!� she said, clutching the phone to her chest like she�d just won an Oscar. She couldn�t wait to call her husband Harold at work.

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