Prologue

The Anarchy of Family Terrorism

The sound came wafting through the attic hide-a-way as if she were standing right there in the living room. She had tried to escape knowing that her upstairs bedroom would not be far enough. She crouched there in the corner for an eternity listening to her mother scowl at her father.

“I’m sick of her, I’m sick of her daydreaming all the time. I need her help with chores and all she can do is think about what she wants to be when she grows up.  I tell you Thomas Wilson, sometimes I’m sorry we had her. I almost hate that little bitc...”

“Clareece!” Tom Wilson interrupted, “that’s quite enough. I don’t know what it is with you and Cynthia but my little girl is every bit as precious to me as you, and I will not have you speaking of her that way. It dishonors her, it dishonors me, it dishonors God and it makes you the most selfishly hard-hearted woman alive. How can you not love Cynthia? Sure Cynthia dreams a lot but we should all dream as she does. Don’t you get it- unless a person has a dream for themselves and their future, what do they have?”

“Sure I do”, Clareece Wilson began sarcastically. “I had the dream that the man I met all those years ago would hold me as the center of his life. I had a dream that that cute boy in the shiny new car would notice me and that I would become his whole life, but my dreams were quickly dashed by things I can not fight.  I thought I’d always be first but nooooo, not you.  What is it you told me on our one-year anniversary? ‘Clareece, I love you so much and you know baby, next to God, there’s no one I love more’, “Uck!”

“I suppose you thought that made me feel better, but you broke my heart that day and I think I began to hate both God and you just a little bit that day. Oh I know you thought I should have been honored, but I wanted first place in your heart.”

Thomas Wilson stood there looking at his beautiful wife... 

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