Missed me?
“Mom? Dad? Are you there?”
She stands in the little clear box, biting her lip as she tightly clutched the payphone.
“I know it’s been some time, and it must feel awkward hearing me talk, but it’s me, your little urchin. There’s no time for an explanation. I’m at the corner drugstore.”
As soon as she hanged up and waited by the single streetlight, a car pulled up, revealing her parents. Little gray hairs were sprinkled all over their heads, and the wrinkles had already taken shape.
Taking her meager possessions from the car, she heads into her old bedroom. It was exactly how it was like the day she was taken. Pink unicorns and purple walls with inspirational quoted plastered around had stood the test of time.
She was finally home.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
That meant a perfect amount of time to fully enact her plan. It would take a couple of months, but she completed her task.
On February 14th, 1978, the Wilsons were murdered in their own home, leaving her the sole claimer of their life insurance.