I was sitting in the car with Ann. She was practicing how to shift the gears when the motor was running. We were looking over homes, were looking for a room. We walked up so many steps, stairs, and always landed in the attic, like where it was small and on steps I was careful. We were at a livestock show. A small girl was reaching down into a pigpen and a big pig grabbed her hand. The girl screamed and Ann jumped into the pen. The pigs ran away and Ann saved the girl. Then another girl did the same and Ann boldly, bravely jumped in again and when she took out the girl, her head was just a hunk of flesh. No face recognizing and part of Ann's scalp was ripped off. We built a sort of roof shelter of old wood and it was quite sturdy. Ann Petrilis murdered her husband she acted as though she knew nothing of it. Then it seemed that it was my sister Mary murdered my dad and still it seemed that my mother was the one who was dead.