The Virginian Love Massacre of 1871

Chapter One.

1870, Falls Church Virginia.

"What is the most important thing for one to hold onto if they want to survive the human experience?"

I had asked my family one night at dinner when I was thirteen.

My teacher had asked us the same question that day at school.

"Your wits, I would assume." my brother had answered.
"Your drive" My father preached in between sips of his wine.
"Your mind." Said my mother.

They were all respective answers, I watched my family argue their choices to one another. All very confident that one was right and the others were wrong.

I couldn't help but snicker to myself as I watched them, because even at thirteen, I knew what you truly had to hold onto in order to remain human, was your heart.

I would never tell my family this. It's far too romantic and possibly a bit naive. They would only sigh at me with a warm yet unbelieving smile. They would tell me what a pretty thought it was and continue to fight each other on their grown up, mature answers.

I have always had a fascination with the human heart. No matter if it was full of love or broken into tiny pieces, it was the driving force of all actions. All emotions. Whether they want to or not, everyone wears a piece of their heart on their sleeve. I keep a careful lookout for it.

I love nothing more than seeing one's heart, however they decide to show it.

Though, I must admit that I'm not quite fond of seeing it dead, in someone's open chest.

"I see you've brought your work home, William." My mother says as we stare at the body, beaten and bloody in front of us.

This is not the first dead body I have seen in my life, nor will it be the last. Historians have always said the wealthy and powerful could, and still can, get away with anything. This is true. My family's money came from generations of smart men who could get away with murder. Who could kill anyone they were asked to and get away with it. Politicians and government officials have been using the Montgomery family as their personal assassins for years. My father has committed crimes that would have him locked in a cell for longer than his life. This will never happen, though. Our family has far too much money and respect in our town to ever be charged.

"Theodore Peterson, cousin of the Blair family."

Ah, the Blair family. The highest enemy to the Montgomery's.

We share Falls Church in every way. Both families are too stubborn to leave. Our family owns the paper, the schools and the theatre. The Blair family owns the banks, most jewelry stores and generously (for the sake of performance) donates to the academy our family owns.

John Blair and my father never got along. They grew up together. His father killed my grandfather, my father killed his father, John tried to kill my father (he was unsuccessful, clearly).

John and Elizabeth Blair had three children.

Miles, who was three years younger than me. Quite shy, but very sweet. He once spilled his drink on my mother's dress by accident and secretly had Mrs. Smith tailor another one for her.

My mother would never tell his family this, because he would surely be beaten if they ever knew he ever payed a favor to our family.

Then there is Wesley, who has been a thorn in my side since I was a child. We go to the same school, rather than having tutors, because of our family's involvement at the academy. He has made it his life's mission to be better than me in every subject. He mocks me and my family whenever he gets the chance. I have no doubt in my mind that he will end up as cold and unloving as his father.