It is night. I look into a room, where my Mother is sitting dejected on the floor inside the couch frame. A man and a woman are around. Next I feel afraid and I look into the bathroom. I see the feet of my Mother and the man as he is raping her. I know he has also killed her. I run out of the house, afraid for my life. I crawl into a cupboard to hide, aware that that might be a bad decision, being so close and obvious. The woman finds me and I lie still, pretending to sleep. She pulls on my nipple to sit me up. She reaches for the other one and comments it is so flabby she can't get a grip on it. I angrily decide if she's going to be manipulating my nipple I might as well feel sexual. I will it to be so, but no sexual feelings. I just feel disgusted. Next I am in front of the house and crying in grief. I lie down in the snow and wave my arms making a snow angel. I am overcome by my Mother's rape and murder. A row of simple crosses are near me in the lawn. The dead pilot's graves. I hear them grieving also, for their own deaths. We all are in anguish. Another man and that same woman are caring and concerned about me. He comes out to convince me not to will myself to die.