At the neighborhood park, a six year old girl jumpes off the bright yellow seat she's swinging on and begins skipping towards her house on a warm summer's afternoon. Her short blonde hair dances in the breeze and her blue eyes sparkle in the shining sun, a grin playing across her face as she sings "You Are My Sunshine" to herself. The green sundress she wears leaves a flitting shadow along the sidewalk behind her as she quickens her pace to the front entrance of the grand house.
Reaching out a small hand to twist the doorknob, for it was almost always unlocked, the little girl lets herself in, calling out to her parents in greeting; silence is her only reply. Curious, she heads up the long staircase, thinking that they might be in the room of her brother of nine months.
"Mommy?" she calls softly, slowly creeking the door closest to her left open.
The child peaks her blonde head into the blue painted room, spotting her mother and father leaning over Peter's crib. She tiptoes inside, for she does not want to awaken the soundly sleeping baby, and taps the arm of her father.
"Daddy?" she whispers, waiting for his usual loving smile and welcoming bear hug.
A moment passes and she becomes restless for some sort of acknowledgment, shaking her father's arm and he slumps back, his body crumpling onto the white carpeted floor in reply. She lets out a small yelp, jumping back, and sees that his face is covered in red; his eyes are open, but the gaze they take on isn't quite there.
The girl quickly crosses around her unmoving father, knowing better than to hope that her mother's fate isn't the same, but does so anyways as to keep her childish wishing alive. The woman's body falls at her pull, though not before she catches a glimpse of what has taken place in the crib. The snow white baby blanket is drenched a deep crimson red, and Peter lays curled underneath, his skin an ugly pale, a red hole clear in the middle of his small forehead. She averts her gaze quickly, but the scene is already imprinted into her young mind. Falling to her knees, the small child buries her head into the unwelcoming cold of her mother's bosom, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
"Wake up mommy, please wake up," she whispers the words like a lullaby, rendering useless in the room plagued with death.
Time quietly ticks by and we find the child taking deep shuddering breaths, her sore eyes shut, face stained with her drying tears, as she drifts through a restless slumber.
"Sarah..." murmurs a voice into the eerie silence. A middle aged man dressed all in black enters the dark room, lifting the girl off her resting place and carries her down the staircase and out the door, placing her gently in the back of a black SUV.
"...I welcome you to your new home," he smiles sadly, shutting the door and entering the passenger's seat as the car starts up and drives into the dying summer sun.