Pain shot through my body as I woke up on the cold concrete floor. I collected myself as I tried to sit up. As soon as I felt the gun in my right hand and doll in my left I was immidiately nervous and confused. It was Melissa's doll. My daughter. Why did I have it? I felt the walls for a lightswitch. When I found it I realized I was in the basement in my own house and must have fallen down the flight of stairs. Looking down at myself I saw lots of blood and a tiny handprint on my white shirt. What happened?
I ran up the stairs and started checking rooms. As I approached my daughters I knew deep down what I was about to find. When I opened the door my suspicions were confirmed. There she was, my little 4 year old angel, laying on the ground with a bullet hole to the chest. I became overwhelmed with so many emotions.
Then a sobbing sound came from behind me and I turned to see my wife. She looked like she had been in a fight.
"How could you!" She screamed "She was our daughter, I thought you loved her, I thought you loved me! I saw what you did to her and I can't look at you anymore. You're a monster!"
I didn't know what I had done. But had a feeling of what it was. I assumed it was my wife who pushed me down those stairs.
"I'm so sorry" I muttered as a loud bang filled the room and the final sound I heard was the breaking of a porcelain doll against the cold hard floor.