A/N: I don't own any characters from the series, only my own=)

Sorry for the mistakes and enjoy the reading!=)

Characters: Wyatt (the father), Paula and Ryan (18 year old, twins, elder sibling), Chris (14 year old)

The house was quite, there was anybody except for a four year old boy and his mother. Both of them were in the kitchen, a mother was preparing dinner for her family, who were going to come back soon from the shop. The boy was sitting at the table and painted something, only he knew what.

"Mommy, look!" the boy said cheerfully. The woman come to the child and looked on the drawing, then she raised her eyes and smiled at her son.

"That's beautiful, sweetie. Is it me?" she asked as she pointed at the figure on the picture.

"Mommy, don't be silly! That's daddy!" the fake frown appeared on her beautiful face.

"Where am I, then?"

"Here," the boy answered pointing at another figure. "That's me, Ryan and Paula."

"Oh, Peanut, that's really good" the mother smiled at her youngest son and went back to preparing dinner. Now and then she turned to look what her son was doing and enjoyed watching him being concentrated on something. Her son was always that way. Even at that age he knew what he wanted and tried to get that without anybodies help. He asked for it if only he finally accepted the fact that he couldn't do it in his own.

Suddenly a demon shimmered into the kitchen behind the boy. The mother reacted instantly. A knife appeared in her hand and she threw it at the threat for her son. The boy orbed to his mother sensing the danger and hugged her legs. The demon was killed, that very moment other three demons shimmered in.

"Chris, orb to the attic. It's safe there. I take care of them, sweetie." The nodded his head and orbed upstairs. Immediately the boys ran to the corner of the attic, where his parents made a special zone, to protect their children from the evil, constantly crushing into their house.

The boy heard the fight downstairs, he heard something crushing and sudden cry. Chris recognized the voice. It was his mother's. He didn't want to let anything happen to his mother, so he ran from the attic to the living room. When he came in the saw the demons disappeared, but he didn't see his mother anywhere, until her heard a shallow breathing from behind the sofa. He came there carefully and his eyes went wide. His mother was laying there in the pool of her own blood, barely breathing, her eyes were closed.

"Mummy! Mummy!" the boy cried, tears coming down his cheeks. The woman opened her eyes and reached for her son. She took his small hand in hers and squeezed in slightly.

"Don't… cry baby. I love you."

"Mummy, hold on. Daddy! Daddy! DADDY!" the child shouted.

"Peanut, baby. They put a spell on the house, it won't … let… your … daddy … hear you." The woman coughed, blood coming from her mouth. "Tell your brother and sister I love them,… cough…. I love you all."

"I could have helped you. It's mu fault." Chris sobbed as he buried his face in his mother's shoulder. The woman stroked his head,

"It's nor your fault, peanut, not …your… fault." With that the woman eyes closed, her heart stopped beating and she didn't took another breath. The child started crying heavily on the dead mother shoulder.

"Mummy, wake up!" the boy asked through tears. "Please, wake up!"

The child cried there for a very long time, alone with the dead body of his mother. The main door opened and the cheerful voices filled the room.

"Abby, Chris, we are home." The man with short blond hair and blue eyes said. But the moment he entered the living room the smile died in his lips. The room was trashed. In the corner of his eyes he saw blood and heard soft sobs. He turned there and saw his baby son laid crying on the body of his wife. The other two children came into the room too. The three of them hurried to the place. Chris raised his head wanting to say something, but his father's eyes stopped him. The man looked at the boy with hatred.

"You killed her!" the man said and pushed the four year old child from the body, picked it up and hugged. "It's your fault!" The other children rushed to the body of their mother and started crying, their father let his wife go and hugged the kids. Chris was sitting on the floor crying even harder.

"It's my fault." He muttered to himself.

The teenager bolt up from his sleep, the same child but only ten years later sat on his bed, shaking from his worst nightmare. He looked around the place and at the only picture he had of his mother with him and started crying uncontrollably.

"It's my fault" he repeated his younger-self words. "My fault."