Emily gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her piercing mismatched eyes cold and devoid of any emotion. The unsettling smile that played on her lips revealed a darkness that lurked within her young soul. At just twelve years old, she had already become adept to concealing her true nature, masking her sociopathic tendencies beneath a veneer of innocence.
Her parents blissfully unaware of the monster that resided within their own home, continued with their evening routine. the sound of their laughter echoed throught the house, a stark contrast to the darkness that seethed within Emily's mind.
She had always been fascinated by life and death. Her mind couldn't quite wrap around the concept of the simplicity by which life can be made, and taken away. That intrigued her. What intrigued her even more was the futility of which our lives take place. 'All humans are just sheep ignorantly galloping away towards an inevitable end' she always thought.
They were some things that also irked her very being. Her parents, and any show of emotion. Feelings and empathy was always something bizare for her.
She had a plan to ease up on one of those things. Her parents, she had a plan to remove that scourge that always irritated her very core. Emotions on the other hand was something she couldn't take care of, yet. She watched as her parents held each other in a tight embrace and stumbled into their room, still giggling like ignorant buffoons, not even bothering to check if their precious little girl was asleep or not.
As the clock struck midnight, Emily set her plan into motion. She slipped silently through the hallways, a predator stalking his prey. In her small fragile looking hands, she clutched a knife, it's glinting blade reflecting the sinister gleam in her eyes.
Entering her parent's bedroom, Emily's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and detachment. The first feeling was something almost alien to her.Only reaching this moment countless times in her twisted fantasies, savoring the power she would soon weild over life and death. In her mind, she was a puppeteer,pulling the strings of her own macabre play.
With swift precision, Emily approached her sleeping parent's bed. Her father lost in peaceful slumber was the first to feel the the cold sting of the blade. His eyes widened with shock and confusion as the lifeblood drained from his body. Emily reveled in the power of that moment, the knowledge that she held his life in her hands.
Her mother awakened by the commotion, gasped in horror at the sight before her. Before she could react, Emily lunged, the knife finding it's mark once more. The room filled with the echoes of her parent's final breaths, the weight of their lifeless bodies leaving Emily both exhilarated and strangely empty.
As the reality of her actions settled upon her, Emily's mind spun with a sense of accomplishment. She had achieved what she believed to be the ultimate act of control, snuffing out the lives of those who had brought her into this world. The silence that enveloped the house was a testament to her power, her ability to manipulate reality itself.
But that was just Phase 1 of her plan. She knew that the scene had to appear as though someone had broken into their home, leaving no trace of her involvement. With calculated precision, she rummaged through drawers, tossing items onto the floor, and disrupting the carefully curated order of their lives.
She broke a window, shattering the glass into a thousand glittering shards. The disarray she created was a masterpiece of deception, a tableau of chaos that would divert suspicion away from her. The house now told a story of intrusion, a narrative that emily had skillfully woven with her own hands.
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the broken window, Emily watched the sunrise as it carefully caressed her bloody skin, and gracefully glided on her platinum blonde hair. She had one more thing to do. She sent an SoS signal to a nearby police station. She then picked up the knife and stabbed herself. She stabbed her right flank, nicking the liver. She had learned previously that getting stabbed there would produce lots of blood, and there was fair risk of death without quick treatment, but it was surviveable.
She smiled before passing out from the shock of the injury.
Little did Emily know that her journey was far from over. The consequences of her actions would ripple through time leaving scars upon her soul and those who would cross her part. The innocence she had shattered that fateful night would become a haunting specter, a constant reminder of the darkness that had consumed her, And as the years pass, she would come to realize that the truest prison was not the bars that held her physically captive, but the depths of her own.