My mom and dad left the house on their weekly Friday dinners. My three older brothers sat together in the living room watching a tv series that they said wasn't "appropriate" for me. I mean I'm 9 and I'm sure there's nothing I don't know, anyway I'm pretty sure they're lying. They probably just wanted me away from them and doing my own thing.
So, I went upstairs and decided to play with my toys.
I couldn't find my doll though. I looked everywhere. I look in my playroom, under my bed, and in my parents' room.
I decided to go downstairs and ask my brothers.
I trotted downstairs, heading to the living room.
But what I walked into horrified me. All three of my brothers were dead. They had stabs in their chests, blood pouring out. One of my brothers, his eyes seemed deformed, one was tilted to the right while the other was taken out of its socket and shoved into his mouth. Another brother, his nose was crooked, and his arm was twisted backwards. The third one...let's just say it was way worse than the others.
There was a blood trail on the ground. It led to the den. I followed the trail and reached the end. I look straightforward and came face to face with my doll. Her hands covered in blood, she grinned while singing a lullaby softly in my ear, while carrying a knife.
La la, la la la She sang.
The last thing I saw was my doll smiling sweetly, innocently, looking at the blood all over me while she continued singing softly.
