I don't remember many of the early years, they're nothing but a blur now, years later. Of what I do remember, I was named Keita Julianne Flateau, born on December 16th, 1982 to my wealthy parents, Jean-Paul and Mercedes.

My father had just been transferred to America from France on a job offer. So my mother and himself both moved here, and a month after, mother discovered that she was pregnant with me. They were happy parents when I arrived. I was sheltered. Attended the best schools. Received everything I ever could have wanted. The perfect life is what I lead; but then, like all dreams, the dream ended.

I was only five. My mother had taken me out to see the newest Disney movie at the theaters, I don't even remember what it was now. We saw the late viewing, came home around nine o'clock. Mother opened the door, and until this day, fourteen years later, what I saw is still engraved into my mind.

As the door swung open slowly, as if from some horror movie, I saw it. It was shinny and red and it covered the floors. "What's that, Mommy?" I asked. But the look on her face told me it was something I didn't want to know.

She pushed me inside of the house and began to whisper as she hugged me and crouched down beside me. "Mommy needs to do something, OK, Sweety? Now, I'm going to put you in the closet and I want you to stay there until someone comes to the closet and tells you to get out." I nodded as my mother took my hand and opened up the closet door in the foyer. She hugged me, kissed me, and said she loved me as she pushed me into a box, underneath clothes and coats and shut the door behind her.

I don't know what happened next exactly. All I remember is the darkness, and the screams. The loud horrifying screams that would haunt my dreams for years to come. And the sobbing, my muffled tears against the coats. Tears of sadness, fear, frustration. The cardboard beginning to become soggy because of leaning my face against it every time I heard a scream or whimper. And then it stopped. It was silent. There was nothing more to hear, nothing but my breathing; And then there was the voice. The loud man's voice. It screamed "Where is the child? There is a girl! We need her!" And then the door slammed.

I don't know how long it was, but I stayed there. In the darkness, in the coats, in the tears until, finally, the door swung open.

Everything spun around. I don't recall what happened, but soon enough I found out that both of my parents were dead; Or, as they put it back then, they were gone - and they weren't coming back.