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. Raynell wasn't a smart boy, but he wasn't dumb either. He was just a normal boy. A normal boy who loathed his brother. Jealousy was also a good way to describe it. His brother got all the attention from his parents. He was shunned from their hugs and praise. He grew a kind of hatred for his brother. A hatred like no other.
. He cursed his brother and hoped something would happen to him. Something bad. Not quite a wish for his death, but for something that would crush him.
. Raynell started to study black magic. Not the same kind witches used, oh no. The kind that he could bend the elements and have things happen in the future. He wasn't very experienced at the time, but he accomplished his dirty, horrid deed. He unwillingly killed his parents.
. They didn't die peacefully. They didn't die in their sleep. They went mad. They tore at their own faces and burned from the inside out. The death also didn't go unnoticed either.
. In a small village, just as a small school, news travels fast. People found out their house had burned down. Killing the parents and sparing the children. People automatically thought it was a witch.
. They went on grand witch hunts, fearing for the village. People didn't feel safe. Children stayed inside. Doors always closed. The occasional chicken and cow showed life was still there.
. Raynell felt he had a bittersweet victory. He was sad that his parents were gone, but happy at the same time. He had crushed his brother. At that point, Raynell was a twisted, twisted boy.