Lily's POV

"What do you mean they're shot dead?" I asked slowly.

"Well your Grandma and I were at the mall and she needed to use the restroom, but she never came back. Your Grandma's phone started ringing, the police said your parents and sister were shot dead, there was another call saying that your aunt, uncle, and cousins were dead, and so on, I ran to the bathroom to find your Grandma. And she was laying down in a pool of blood with bullets in her body. I'm on my way to bring you home, start packing..."

My entire family, all dead? But how? Why am I not dead? Who killed them all? I felt my body slam on the floor, things started getting blurry and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Tears rolled down my cheeks, soaking my shirt, I screamed and punched the bed. My shoulders shook with grief, my breathing grew weak because sobs overtook my lungs.

I curled up into a ball on the floor, wishing for death to claim me as well so I could see my family again. My mind flipped through memories like a photo album. I pounded on the floor, cursing this earth for taking away my loved ones. Louis and Eleanor rushed in, asking what's wrong. I remembered how mom and dad used to comfort me when I started crying, holding me in their arms and kissing my forehead, telling me everything was going to be okay.

I could scarcely believe that everyone I had loved was gone. All my relatives, gone in one day, in a few gunshots, in a few seconds. Louis carried me into Sadie's car as I continued to cry hysterically. Eleanor packed all my thing and they both traveled with Sadie and I to the hospital, where I would say my goodbyes to my family. In the car, Eleanor layed my head in her lap, stroking my long red curls.

At the hospital, I kissed the cheeks of all my family members, saving my parents and Stacey for last. I thanked them for the wonderful thirteen years I spent with them. I held their hands and hugged them, just wishing they could wake up and hold me. I spent the night at the hospital, inbetween Mom and Dad.

The next day I met with some people and talked about a funeral, read many Will's, listened to the the names of suspects, but I didn't eat anything. I couldn't, I wasn't hungry, I was numb, struck to the bone, as if someone had thrown a brick at me that read: "This is reality." I kept hoping that it was just a crazy dream but I gave up when I heard how much money I inherited from all these dead people. I owned many houses, cars, farms, pets, and expensive antiques.

Everything was going to go at an auction. I kept only one photo album of my favorite pictures and my favorite clothes. I didn't keep my iPod, iPad, jewelry, books, pillow, I didn't even want to keep my dog because the memories were too painful. I was pretty much a millionare when the auctions were over, the houses were sold, and the properties were gone. But I didn't have a family. I didn't belong to anyone anymore. I didn't even belong on earth, I belonged in Hell because I was the only surviver of this massacre.

And worst of all. I didn't have a home. Where was I to go?