Disclaimer: I don't own Nikita but I own this story.

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"Mom! Dad!" Nikita shut the door behind her. She hadn't had to use her key to get in and that was weird.

"Mom!" she yelled again. No answer.

"Dad?" Nikita had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tossed her purple back-pack into one of the kitchen-table chairs.

Nikita dug through the fridge and found a pear that was still good. She sat at the table and started on her homework.

Man, she thought, multiplication is hard. A third grader could only take so much of that stuff.

It began to get dark outside; Nikita hopped up from the chair and walked over to the kitchen/living room archway. She reached for the light switched and noticed a lamp was knocked over.

Huh . . .

Nikita flip on the light and walked into the living room. Something was missing.

Where's mom's decorative music box? Nikita studied the room . . .

Where's the radio?

Okay, something weird was defiantly going on here. Nikita bent down and picked up the lamp; as she stood back up she noticed something in the carpet. It was a red stain. Did she drop some jam? No, Mom didn't let her eat in the living room.

There were more stains down the hallway. Nikita followed them. She passed the laundry room and turned the corner.

Nikita scream and threw up onto the carpet. Her father was lying on the floor with a deep gash in his throat.

She crouched next to her dad but was afraid to touch him. She looked up and saw someone lying on the floor of her bed room. Nikita gasped. She stepped over her father and ran to her mother. But her mom wasn't there anymore; just her body with a severed neck.

Nikita screamed and scream. She cried so hard she couldn't see for hours. At around ten at night, she walked past her dead parents and went to the house phone.

She dialed nine-one-one.

"Hello, New Jersey Police Department, what's your emergency?" said a dead voice.

"My name is Nikita Knowles, I'm eight. M-my parents have been murdered." Her voice cracked on the last word and she cried again.

The voice came to life. "What is your address?"

Nikita answered the woman.

"The police are on their way, hang in there."

Nikita stood outside wrapped in a blanket as she watched men carry out large black bags from the house. She didn't see her parents and this confused her. When she asked an officer, the man gave her a sad look but didn't answer.

And that irritated Nikita; she stuck her tongue out at him.

"What's going to happen next?" she asked him.

"You are going to go stay with some nice people until we find your relatives."

"I have an Aunt," she suggested.

"And where does she live?"

"She died two years ago,"

The man sighed.

"Excuse me," said a woman. "My name is Jennifer Perez," she looked at a clip board in her hand. "I am part of Social Services and I'm here to get Nikita Knowles." She looked at the officer and handed him a piece of paper. "You must be Nikita, I'm Jennifer. You are going to come with me tonight." She held her hand out to Nikita.

Nikita didn't have anywhere else to go so she took her hand. They both got into a black car and Nikita said good-bye to her old life forever.

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It is short, I know. Please review-the more I get the faster I update.

-Kayleigh