"LEEEEEeeeEEEeeAVE!"

With a shriek, Mary charged forward, the pallet knife she had picked up earlier gripped tightly in her hand. Fear and anger washed over her until she was consumed by them. All thought and reasoning was lost. Her body moved automatically with self-preservation the only thing on her mind. The young girl in front of her, caught off-guard by the sudden outburst, had temporarily frozen in fear. The man beside her yelled her name, snapping her out of it, but it was too late. Before she could make it to the picture frame, Mary had caught up. Another shriek filled the air as Mary thrust the knife forward, her intense fear providing her with strength she wouldn't have had otherwise.

And then- silence.

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment, Then, slowly, the world around her came back. Mary's vision cleared as the emotions that had overcome her ebbed away. The sound of her own panting reached her ears, along with a fast, steady dripping.

Dripping?

Mary's eyes widened. Her now unsteady hands released her grip on the knife as she took uneven steps back. A male voice, screaming Ib's name, broke the silence as Garry caught the brown-haired girl before she crumpled to the ground.

"Ib! Ib, no, hang on! I'll get you out of here somehow, just hold on! Please, Ib! Don't close your eyes!"

Mary shook her head as she stared at the scene before her, the man's voice being drowned out in her mind by that of her own. "No...No...No, NO!"

She could only watch through teary eyes as the last petal of the once vibrant red rose fell off the limp stem. The life of the only human friend she had ever had withered away before her very eyes. The friend she had longed to leave the museum with, to live a normal life with, was gone.

Mary's hands shook uncontrollably as tears mixed with blood in her palms. She collapsed as her legs gave out, a shrill cry tearing through her throat.

"You...killed her..."

Mary looked up at the source of the voice, realizing Garry was still in the room as well.

As Garry looked up at her, Mary froze in fear. The teary eyes of the adult before her were filled with an anger she had never witnessed before.

"You killed her!"

Mary winced, as if Garry's voice had physically stabbed her. She knew he was right. She knew what she had done, and she knew she deserved to be punished for it. Yet, as fear of what he might do to her gripped her mind, instinct to protect herself took over.

Before Garry could make any sort of move, Mary lunged for the blue rose he had dropped to the ground. The thorns dug into her hand as she grasped the stem as tightly as she could. There was an audible gasp as she ripped the head of the rose off.

For a moment, nothing happened. Garry simply stared at her, as if frozen in his spot. His anger was gone. He was no longer looking at her with hateful eyes. Instead, there was a deep sorrow. Sorrow, and something else Mary couldn't quite figure out. Was it sympathy? Before she could figure it out, his eyes closed. His body went limp and fell with a dull thud beside Ib.

Everything went silent. Mary watched as the bright blue petals darkened and withered in her hand. She dropped the parts of the rose to the ground, watching as they fell around the single red petal.

Mary felt empty. As if all her energy left her at once, she let herself collapse beside Ib. She took the girl's hand. It was cold. Mary clasped it tightly to her chest, as if to put warmth back into it, but instead the coldness flowed into Mary's hands, up her arms, and permeated her entire body. She curled into a ball on the floor, clutching the hand that had been so warm and comforting just moments ago, letting her tears spill freely onto the floor.

Mary was, and always would be, alone.