They say the first sign is killing animals.
By the time the sun comes up completely, I've managed to scrub out all the stains. It's taken me a good few hours. I've left everything laid out to dry. Then, I crawl back into bed to try to get some sleep. When my brother is sent to fetch me, I tell him that I'm ill.
When I am finally awake, it's near noon, and my parents request my presence. I enter the sitting rom. My father is sitting there, a grim expression on his face. "One of our pigs were killed last night. Do you have anything to do with this?" He asked of me.
"No, father." I reply. At least, I don't think I had anything to do with it. "Looks like I'll be filing a police report this morning. He said as he dismissed me. On the way back to my room, I couldn't help but wonder. Did I wake up covered in blood? Why? What have I done?>
At the time that this happened, Gerard was only 12. It would only go downhill from here.