Name: Kaylee Daugherty
Age: 7
Description: See image. Friendly, cheerful, and somewhat hyperactive.
Type of Death: Murder
Scenario: Robbers break in, believing the residents are all at work or school. However, Kaylee, who was sick, is home alone and sleeping on the couch. She wakes up and hears them talking, immediately recognizing them as someone she knows.

>>5147


Sarah’s Last Shower

Sarah entered the bathroom and set a folded towel next to the sink. She didn’t bother with a change of clothes, as she didn’t need them; just the pink towel and the thing she hid inside it.

“Get in and get out! You have fifteen minutes, it’s the cane,” her step mother yelled. “And don’t lock the door,” she continued as Sarah closed the door behind her.

“Alright!” Sarah replied as she stripped naked and turned on the water.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, ma’am!” She yelled.

After hearing no further response, she stepped climbed in the shower.

Rubbing soap over her nubile prepubescent body and into her dark shoulder-length hair, Sarah’s mind wandered through her short life. Specifically, to her life as it was prior to the last thirteen months, before her loving parents were tragically killed by a drunk driver. It was after her eleventh birthday party; Sarah’s decision to stay home and play her new video games spared her from the same fate; at least, temporarily.

Sarah rinsed the soap off. Tears dripped from her eyes, disappearing into the foamy water going down the drain. She stepped out of the shower, without even bothering to shut off the water. She unfolded the towel, and pulled out the .44 Magnum she stole from beneath her step dad’s bed.

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned the weapon over in her hands. She started to sob and sat down on the toilet, he legs sprayed as she laid back and looked up at the ceiling. Once more, Sarah thought of her real mom and dad, as she placed the gun underneath her chin. Feeling the cool of the barrel, she closed her eyes, never to open them again.

“I’m coming home,” she whispered and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out, vibrating the bathroom walls, and echoed across the neighborhood. The bullet obliterated her lower jaw and blasted a hole through the top of her head, splattering the wall and back of the toilet with a fountain of blood and torn pieces of brain matter. The gun clattered to the floor while her arms hung uselessly aside her slumped, lifeless, corpse. Her bodily waists splashed and trickled into the toilet as her body relaxed.

Moments later, ear-piercing screams rattled the neighborhood as Maria found the gory remains of her stepdaughter.