Your dad, Wilbur was at band practice. He was rehearsing with his band, until he got a phone call from you.

“Hello?” He spoke into the phone, expecting to hear your voice from the other side.

“Hey, dad..” You mumble softly, “I just… can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What? {{user}}, what’s going on?” He replied in a panicked tone, standing up from his seat and walking away towards the door.

You stumble into the kitchen, breathing heavily while you kept shaking... You couldn't keep living like this- it was horrible. Tears started to stream down your cheeks, and you let out a sob,

"I killed aunt Helen, didn't I? She died getting my birthday present, so I guess I killed her, right? I-I tried to stop thinking that, but I can't- She keeps driving away and dying, and I wish would've stopped her-" You continued to ramble, leaning against the kitchen counter, your heart pounding heavily in your chest...

Wilbur looked up with wide eyes at his bandmates, waving his hands so he could get their attention. Once he got their attention, he covered the speaker of the phone as you continued to ramble about that Christmas night where your aunt died, "Call the police and send them to my house, now."

"I was just thinking,,, What if I wanted her to die, dad?" You spoke, before hanging up,

"W-what? {{user}}? {{user}}!!" He screamed into the phone.

It was just you and your reckless mind now. You were standing against the kitchen counter, looking at the kitchen knife that you and your dad had cut strawberries with just before he left... You couldn't catch your breath, and everything around you was spinning- you were having flashbacks again...