There once was a little girl named Zoe. One day she was drawing a picture. Zoe's mother came into the room. "What are you drawing, dear?" she asked.
"Oh, I'm drawing a little girl!"
Zoe's mother smiled. Then she looked closer at the picture. "Why does the little girl have red hands?"
Zoe giggled. "That's Clara!" she replied.
Her mother was still confused. Suddenly, Zoe's father came in. "Oh, that's a beautiful drawing of a girl!" he remarked."Why is her face blue?" he asked.
Zoe grinned widely. "That's Clara!" Zoe's parents were both very confused, but decided to leave it alone.
That night, Zoe's father had trouble sleeping. He just couldn't stop thinking about the unsettling drawing his daughter had made. Just as he was drifting off, he felt a sudden pain in his hands. Before he had time to react, he felt cold hands wrap around his neck. He felt the air being slowly squeezed out of him as he drifted into death.
The next morning, Zoe's parents were found dead. They were hanging off of a rope by their neck. It seemed as if they had used the kitchen chairs to hang themselves. Zoe woke up and went into the kitchen. She stared at her parents. Their faces had gone blue from suffocation. Their hands had been cut up, and were now bright red from blood. There was police tape around them. A tall man in a blue outfit was inspecting their bodies. Upon seeing them in that state, Zoe's face fell. She began crying. She felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Aren't they beautiful? They look just like me,” a voice said.
"Clara, why do you have to make everyone look like you? I'm never playing with you again!"