History: I was only six when it happened. Me and my family were celebrating Christmas, and I was about to open my last present, when a knock came from the door. My parents both had tears in there eyes, and had fallen faces, and they turned to me. My father picked me up, and took me to the closet in their room.<br/>My dad said to me, "Whatever you hear, do not come out. Understand?" I nodded, not understanding that this would change my life forever.<br/>I heard them open the door, and footsteps. There were two gunshots, and the swishing of a blade, and I heard two thumps as they fell onto the floor. I heard the man walk out of the house, and after about five minutes, I got out of the closet, and walked in the living room.<br/>My parents had slices through their chests, and there were holes in their heads. I blinked back my tears, trying hard not to cry at the sight of my dead parents.<br/>After dragging their bodies into the kitchen, I turned to my last present. It was flat, and was the shape of a tablet. I opened it, and it was a picture of us all, my mother incredibly happy, her usually pale face blushing. My father had a clean face, and was holding me in his lap, his black hair falling onto his face. I looked no older than three, with my black hair no longer than my neck, and my white face shining red with laughter.<br/>I walked into my room, the photo in my hand, and packed my Dora backpack with clothes, food, the photo, and my stuffed teddy bear, that my mom gave me. I walked outside, after packing my things, and started to head downtown.<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>After two days of walking, my feet were aching, and my eyelids were drooping. I sat down on the corner of the road, and broke down in tears. Don't forget, I was only six, so this was hard for a little girl to experience.<br/>About two hours later, an old lady with a kind face walked up to me. She looked about eighty years old, and was Japanese. Her hair was black, with a few strands of grey. She stood up ramrod straight, and smiled at me. "Hello, little girl. What is your name?" Her voice was as soft as the clouds. "M-my name is Violette." She put her hand out, and I took one of them, and stood up.<br/>"Well, Violette, I have a group of little girls with me that their parents are dead. Would you like to join us?" I nodded, happy that someone would take me in. She put her hand on my shoulders, and supported me as we walked to the group.