~Flash Back~
"Mommy! Daddy! I'm home!" called the young girl as she opened the door to the dark house. She was excited to tell her parents about the new friend she made that day. She hasn't made one since she was six. At school, the girl was always the weird one and was bullied. Of course her parents didn't know that, and thought she was the most popular and the one that everyone loved. The girl was the quiet one that everyone teased because she viewed the world as place to be explored and to be learned about. She loved her classes. The girl was never one to care about crushes or seriously like the kids in her class. In fact she found all of them quite boring and uninteresting. She had her own group of friends, but all some of them did was complain about how someone rejected them like their life depended on it. 'Is this seriously necessary?' she thought. 'There are seven billion more people in this world besides that one person, who are far more interesting.' Only her closest friends out of the group knew this of course. As she walked through the living room and, she stumbled over a large object that was laying across the floor.
"Mommy? Daddy?" She called to the large object that was her parents' dead bodies. "Mommy! Daddy! Wake up! This isn't funny!" she cried as she shook their lifeless bodies.
"Mom...Dad..." she whispered as she fell to her knees besides them. "They're gone, they're really gone."
The girl stood up looked around the room, she found the knife the robbers used beside her. She picked it up and began to stare at her reflection as the tears began to slowly slide down her face. 'Should I? I could be with them again.' She rolled up the sleeves of the blazer of her uniform and stared at the scars from the night before. Some of them were old, and some were new.
Unbeknownst to the girl, her best friend was walking up to the front door. She already knew that her friend always forgot to lock the door when she got home, so she walked in to see the girl lying on the kitchen floor besides her parents in a pool of her own blood and the knife clenched in her cold hand.