by Andrew Beaudoin

Created on: February 18, 2010

The day started out normally.

John Stone, Target I, got out of bed at exactly 5:45 AM, Eastern Standard Time. He hit the alarm’s button that turned the annoying buzzing noise off, and got out of bed nearly immediately. He was, apparently, a morning person.

Nick watched through the second-story window.

He took a hot enough shower that plumes of steam wafted out into the bedroom and into Nick’s field of vision, and turned on the coffee maker. He then woke up his son, Alex, at exactly 6:14, a minute earlier than he was supposed to, though it was doubtful that Alex would notice. He woke him up again at 6:20, and this time Alex got out of bed, heading into the bathroom and taking a similarly hot shower.

Nick watched through the second-story window.

As their son was in the shower, John Stone woke up his wife, Nicole. Target II. She, like her son, dozed for a few minutes and had to be woken up again, only slowly getting out of bed as she could smell the bacon frying downstairs.

Nick couldn’t see it, but he’d watched from the same vantage point, on top of a neighbouring rooftop, for weeks, and Nicole was rarely moving and dressed before her husband had started frying the bacon, directly below her.

Alex went back into his bedroom and got dressed for school; he had an early-morning volleyball tryout that day, so he had to leave early. Despite the chilly early-morning spring weather, he put on shorts and a t-shirt, eschewing comfort outside for ease of movement during tryouts. His mother dressed beside him, putting on a businesswoman’s suit, ready to go off to her job as a secretary at a lawyer’s firm.

Nick watched through the second-story window.

Alex ate a quick breakfast, then left at 6:59; at 7:00 on the dot, his father was upstairs, waking his younger brother, Ben. Target III. Ben was like his father; when he was awakened, he all but jumped out of his bed, dressing quickly in order to eat breakfast with his parents.

Nick watched through the second-story window.

The family talked jovially over their breakfast of bacon and eggs; occasionally, one of them would crack a joke, and they would all laugh, stopping to take another few bites of their food. There didn’t seem to be any real conversation going on, though there rarely was. It was obvious when Ben asked where his older brother was; he pointed to the empty seat across from him while furrowing his brow and tilting his head questioningly. They had every appearance of a modern, happy

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