What happened to Tyra Crolly?

one

C H A P T E R  O N E

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It was another beautiful day in the neighborhood. Soft beeping of cars, birds fluttering and chirping all over, the smell of freshly cut grass and their neighbors, The Ruperts, doing their usual arguement.

Mrs. Ellara Crolly smiles.

Just another beautiful morning at the Crolly household.

She was boiling water for their morning tea. In the oven, were her pastries, with her family's traditional recipe, that her kids and their entire clan enjoyed so much. They were four minutes away from being fully baked.

Mrs. Crolly hums.

She hums the tune that she'd sing her children to sleep. Her humming alone was something that would have been straight out of a Disney movie, or that's what her husband usually told her.

The Crolly's grandfather clock struck 7:30 am. It rang all throughout the house.

The Crolly household was suprisingly silent. But the birds continued chirping. The Ruperts, their neighbors for about six years, continued their arguement about who should drive their children to school.

The oven dinged and the kettle screeched.

"Breakfast is ready!" she sang in a sing song voice.

Being a mother of three was a tough job, Mrs. Crolly thought.

But little did she know that on that morning, she would be a mother of two.

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Tyra Crolly's room was awfully quiet.

Which was strange because her room usually blasted music that would make her mother scream.

See, Tyra was that kind of person who couldn't sleep if she didn't have any music playing in the back drop. She would listen to metallica if she had to. Because without it, she couldn't sleep.

Her night light was out. Her sliding door was half way opened and the morning wind cooled the tension in her room.

On the four poster bed, lay Tyra Crolly's naked body.

It was full of deep stabs, her skin barely noticed because of the amount of blood covering it. There were cuts all over her. On her thighs, her feet, her joints, her stomach, her neck and a sickenly smile shaped cut that formed on her mouth.

Beside her were hastily stacked papers that had countless reasons on why she had done this. Sugar coated reasons why she had decided to end herself.

"Breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Crolly's voice could be heard all over the house.

But Tyra Crolly didn't move.

Her eyes were glued to the view of her ceiling.

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A hundred meters away from the Crolly household, just beside the tree that Tyra Crolly and her siblings used to play, was a girl.

She had been hiding there since five am that morning. She had been there for almost two hours now.

"Breakfast is ready!" she could here Mrs. Crolly's voice all the way from here.