She walks along the murky pond, looking for her remains. Her dark, silky blond hair sweeps her scabbed back as she glares into thin air. 20 years ago, she had just been a mere seven years old, giddily jumping rope, lifting her long, beautiful, heavy Victorian dress, singing to Strawberry Shortcake. Her deep, aqua eyes are now just a hollow space. Now, she seeks revenge, to find her killer. As she hums the tune to her favorite song, she grabs onto the knife cleverly hidden in the back of her ripped dress. She was about to kill someone, but just as she grasped hold of her shiny, wooden knife, a mysterious person clutched her neck, strangling her to death. The person then dragged her tiny, size 1 feet across the muddy grasslands and hid her in an old, rickety, abandoned shack. When finally, someone found her, it was too late. Her scalp was already covered in black termites, ready to get the most of their meal. Her small, delicate eyes had been carved out by roaches, and her tiny, miniature hands were curled up in a ball, ready to take revenge. Now, that’s what she does. She drags a girl into the barn, and pulls out her knife. Her knife brutally wounds the girl, and now, she finds the killer.


It was Herself.

Lesson: Never trust anyone, not even yourself.