"Stop touching it!"

The child's screaming echoed through the house while her mother and father attempted to calm her down. She was sobbing. Her small hands pounded on the table where a small puzzle sat. It was almost finished, every piece was laid out or put together.

"Hunny, all your father was doing was helping you with your puzzle."

She screamed more. She didn't want help with her puzzle. She wanted to do it alone. She wanted to show her parents that she was independent. She wanted them to be proud of her. But that couldn't happen if she had help. She doesn't need help

"I was gone for five minutes! What happened here?"

The children turned their heads wuickly towards their mother's voice. Sugar, flour, butter, anything they were baking with was on the floor, counter, or themselves. There wasn't a spot there wasn't some sort of substance. The youngest girl giggled and clapped her hands, flour being powdered everywhere.

"Girls." Their mother chuckled a bit. Kids were hard. She knew this. She shouldn't be hard on them because they were being curious and creative.

"Mama!" the older girl said. She laughed and spread some butter around the floor she was creatinf her masterpiece on, that masterpiece being a sugar and butter mess. The room smelled sweet.

Their mother just laughed. She dipped her hand in the flour and tapped both of her daughters' noses with it. They both giggled and did the same to their mother. The cake they were baking would have to wait.

I arrive home. It's been a while. And for some reason, it hurts to come home after all this time. Its not like there was anyone that was going to miss me but still. The door opens and the smell of artifical apples is the first thing I smell. I've always had an obssession with apple-scented things and I guess I left a freshener in the wall the whole time. My eyes scan every part of the home. The old dishes I never put away laying on the table. The lights in the bathroom I never turned off. Am I really this forgetful and messy? The sofa is what catches my eye. The curtain is draped above it. The light from the window the curtain used to be on is blinding. A note is taped to the top of the sofa.

"Hey, Emmie! Its Mom! I thought while you were gone, I'd visit to make sure everything was okay there. I didn't bother to clean or fix anything because I know how much you hate it when things are moved but I did place the curtain above the couch to keep the dust off of it. I know it was just bought and I just wanted to keep it brand new for you. Love you!

• Mom"

Tears well up in my eyes a bit. I didn't think anyone had cared that I left. My hands graze the fabric of the light pink curtain. I keep it there, not moving it.

His perfect blonde hair brings me back to elementary school. The blue eyes sparkle just as they did back then. I had asked for a coffee and my eyes glanced up to see him. He hadn’t changed a bit. He saw me and laughed a bit, hanging his head a bit embarrassed. "What can I get you, Lila?" The words caught me off-guard. My mind was wrapped in the funny little memories we had had. "Just a coffee is fine." I laugh, embarrassed. Being a kid is the cringiest, most embarrassing thing I've ever had to live through. He cooks up my coffee, every once and a while glancing back at me. He hands me the coffee, his hand grazing mine. "Thank you..I'll see you around, babe" I emphasize the word "babe" as to joke around about our past. I walk out of the coffee shop, laughing. What a memory flashback.

The ringing began to flow through my headset into my ears.

"Hello, what's your emergency?" I ask. Moments passed but there was nothing. Silence. "Hello? If this is a prank call, this is a serious hotline. Please only call with emergencies."

The silence continued. It continued for seconds that felt like years. It probably is a prank call; we get those all the time.

"Seven."

Heavy breathing began. My eyebrows scrunched together a bit. A singular word made me confused. I could hear muffled and quiet sobs through the phone butit wasn't from the person on the call.

"Excuse me? Seven what, sir?"

My heart began to race. This job has always been stressful for me but this is just bizaare. The heavy breathing continued.

"Children. Seven children."

"What about these children? Are they hurt?" Calls about children always make me uneasy.

"All of them. Killed."

My heart dropped. He should've called the police, not the crisis hotline.

"Please elaborate, sir. How did they die? What happened?"

I could feel the man's breath on my neck, it was so heavy.

"You will kill, too. I won't be alone." The voice echoed in my ear. My eyes go a bit wider but I need to stay calm, its my job.

"What..?" I reply. The call ended. I could hear the silence louder. Theres slight static. My heart beat out of my chest and I took off my headset. I need to survive.