Her phone rang. Her phone fell.
"Curse this bell!" She said as she ran to the door. The cinnamon fragrance of her cozy cottage escaping out of the small outlet just above the Christmas wreath that decorated the wooden door. The lights were on and the baking was too. Waiting for her man to make a call that she had sent a message for, she smiled inwardly thinking it to be one of his delightful surprises.
She turned the knob and the wooden barrier opened to a few men in black, wearing disgusting smiles.
This wasn't her surprise.
No matter her attempts to close it shut, the two men pushed in. All her pleadings, all the panic, all the pain and tears--all in vain.
Grabbing fistfuls of her golden curls that she'd set that morning for her man to notice, they threw her into the closet and shut the door. No room to breathe. No one to listen.
After their job was done and all that was left was the ruined cake and tree, the thieves leapt out the window on hearing a hard knock.
The neighbours broke in when the lock left unanswered. The sight held them speechless and baffled. The girl was found in the closet.
Lifeless.
Her phone contained a last call--a missed call from her man. And they decided to dial a ring to her only family--him.
His phone rang. And... His phone fell.