• Annabelle bolted out of her sleep. It was the middle of the night. She heard a door slam and the air conditioner was making an unusual sound. Something was wrong.
    Annabelle stood up. She was in a nightgown, even though she was in her 30’s. The bedroom door was ajar, but it wasn’t when she fell asleep The lights were dimmed. The sound of city traffic came from the apartment window.
    “Susie!” she thought. Susie was her daughter, “Is she all right?”
    The room had items out of place. Containers on the makeup table were all on the top, some were sideways and up-side-down. Clothes poured out of the closet, now unfolded. The window was open and wind swoshed in. Annabelle rushed to it and shut it tight. That was why the air conditioner was malfunctioning.
    Annabelle was sweating nervously, “Who did all of this?” she thought, “How did he break in?”
    She exited the bedroom. In the hallway all the doors were opened. Pieces of trash were scattered across the carpet floor. A painting of a bowl of fruit was hanged crooked and a feet higher than it was supposed to be. An air vent was clogged with pink wrapping paper. The paper was uncrumbling, but very slowly.
    There was a door to the kitchen, and Annabelle checked the room. The fridge was wide open. The drawers were taken out and neatly placed on the floor. But there were broken plates and the metal toaster was smashed.
    The mother checked the fridge door. She closed it and examined the surface.
    The magnets on the door spelled, “Living Room.” Scared, she rushed to the living room.
    There were severe damage. The sofa was slashed, chairs were overturned and broken. The carpet was wet and folded into a strange position. There was a thin hole where the doorknob used to be, which was closed. The items on the table were wither scattered on the wooden floor or missing. Annabelle was shocked.
    Then she remember, “Susie!”
    She bolted to Susie’s room, yelling her name in distress. When she reached it, the door was wide open.
    The bedroom was pink, just like any other teen girl’s room. Few items were slashed or broken, only missing. The bed sheets were gone, clothes were gone, electronics were gone. Susie wasn’t there.
    Annabelle was in a panic, she started uncovering items, hoping to find a clue. But then, she ha an idea.
    She checked the answering machine, “Message from Susie’s cell,” it chimed. Susie’s voice came out of the phone:

    “Mom. I left because I found out that you condemned me for 13. Why did you did this? I wanted to live a life, not be slaughtered to save your own skin. I loved you, but I had to leave. I hope you enjoy what I did to you.”
    The automated system then added, “Message recorded on March 12, 2030...”

    The contract for Susie’s organ donation laid on the bed, ripped to pieces. A flower hairpin was top of it.
    “I hope you enjoy what I did to you...” Susie’s voice echoed. Suddenly, someone shot a bullet through the bedroom door, hitting Annabelle in the heart.