Billy headed for the door at about 11:30, just a half an hour after he got there. "Leaving so soon?" Asked Carla.

"Ya, this isn't my kind of party," said Billy.

"Oh, alright, well I'll see you tomorrow then." Carla said.

"O.k., bye."

A few minutes later, Billy walked through the front door of his house, sneaking in now. He turned on the kitchen light and walked through the living room, tripping over something on the floor. He thought he felt water under his feet. "What the…?" Billy turned on the light on the end table and froze, his eyes pinned to the ground. He couldn't breath, just stare at his dead mom lying on the floor, her throat slit and blood spilled on the floor. A few feet away, his father was on the floor, his back to the couch, head back. Billy backed away, knocking the lamp over… He ran upstairs in shock.