My name is Jane, I’m in my late thirties now. The story I’m about to relate to you is true, happening when I was sixteen years old. I am an only child, my parents told me, “They didn’t want to mess with perfection by having more children.”

I had just come home from school. Dad and Mom were still at work, they wouldn’t be home until six. I was trusted at home alone after school, but I had to make sure every door and window was locked. Today was late gym class, I was sweaty and wanted to take a quick shower before doing my homework. But first I had to let Toby, our black lab, out, he had been cooped up since I left for school. He ran out into the back yard and pissed on his favorite tree. Then he comes loping back, wanting to get back into the house. I let him in, then I went to my room.