Calliope was what people called a real freak. People despise her and feel disgusted of her because when people lack only a thing or two in their emotions, this particular girl lacked EVERY emotion in the world. I watch as my brother repeatedly called my name in a desperate manner, blood trickling down his forehead. Then the man wearing a bloodied white hood raised his knife and plunged it deep into my brother’s spine. I didn’t move nor did I even flinch at the sight. I just stood there and stared. The lifeless bodies of our parents were lying on the floor, a bloody mess that deepened the color of our red carpet. He looked at me. I stared back at him. He lunged at me, my stomach meeting his knife. He looked at me. I stare at him. “Why don’t you scream? Aren’t you in pain?” he asks. I cocked my head to the side like a little child. “What’s pain?” I ask.