--- 8 years ago ---

"Mom!" I yelled as I dropped my bag off on the side of the front door. "I'm home!" 

The air was cold, as if Mom forgot to turn on the heat again. Kicking my shoes off,  I headed to the kitchen. Soccer practice made me hungry. Coach had us run at least 10 miles today. I opened the refrigerator, took out a cheese stick, and started peeling off bits of cheese and popping them in my mouth. 

I grabbed my backpack by the front door and headed up the stairs, my cheese stick still in my hand. I headed up to my room and dropped off my backpack as I ate the rest of my cheese. Burping, I decided that washing off the grime and grass smell from practice before Mom noticed was a good idea. I walked towards the bathroom, and turned the knob.

Locked. 

I knocked on the door. 

"Mom? Laney?" I asked, putting my ear on the door. No response. Luckily, there was a master key for all the doors in the house. And I knew where it was. I ran down the stairs, opened the drawer where we throw every miscellaneous item we find, and ran back up the stairs. 

Doing a little victory dance as I heard the lock turn, I put the key back in my pocket and opened the door. 

"Mom! I opened the -" I started. My feet stepped onto something warm and sticky. Red. 

All from my mother, laying down on the bathroom tile, her neck cut from the knife in her hand. 

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