Who did this, Julie

It is a very sunny morning, and the sun is smiling sadly at the poor recipients of her hot nature, and it is not Sunday. The birds are not chirping as usual, the trees are swaying slowly, humming to a sad melody, and Mrs Owen does not like how she feels listening to it. Mrs Owen is a woman who enjoys nature and pays attention to her surroundings, yet she feels uneasy today. The air appears dense and hazardous like it has been blessed with a large quantity of nitrogen oxide. Even her bubbly neighbour, Mr Taylor, who is always up early and disturbing the whole neighbourhood by chastising his rebel of a son, Junior, is not doing that today. Mrs Owen has this gut feeling that something is not right. Is this just her instinct playing mind games with her and all these a figment of her imagination? However, she decides to wave it all off and focus on the arrangements for her only daughter Julie’s birthday, and just like every year, there will be a party. Nothing must get in the way of all the planning and merriment for this anticipated day. “Maybe I'm just too excited,” she says.

Mrs Owen notices the time and wonders why her daughter has yet to come down to have her breakfast. Also, guests would arrive soon, and it would be rude for the celebrant to be absent from welcoming them. “Julie!!! Julie!!! Julie!!!” Mrs Owen calls, but she is not getting any response. “Julie!!!” she tries again, but Mrs Owen is not getting an answer from Julie. Mrs Owen then climbs up to check and see for herself. She opens Julie's room door and sees that she is not in bed even though her bed is well laid. Mrs Owen then hears the shower run from Julie's bathroom and concludes Julie is having her bathe, so Julie should be down once dressed. She leaves the room and makes a mental note to check back if Julie still refuses to come downstairs.

Some of Julie’s friends arrived and joined Mrs Owen in putting the finishing touches to the party. Everyone becomes so caught up that they all forget about Julie. Mrs Owen gasps as she realises that two hours have passed since she last checked on her daughter. She believes Julie should be done and goes to check. It is bizarre for her not to be down already, and the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach is not helping the situation at hand. She tries to push away all the negative thoughts as she climbs up to her daughter's bedroom. Mrs Owen opens the door, and it makes a loud creak; she makes a mental note, that she should see the door afterwards. Little did she know that what she was going to meet on the other side was something that would scar her for life.

Mrs Owen enters the room, scans the room and sees no sign of Julie. She moves closer to the bathroom and hears the showers still running. “What kind of bathing is this going on for hours?” “Is this a new age, new me tantrum?” “Is she having a breakdown about her new age?” “Does she not want a party this year?” “Has something unpleasant happened?” with various questions running through her mind, Mrs Owen’s heart begins to race at an alarming rate, and she takes cautious steps to the bathroom, she then sees the door is left ajar, so Mrs Owen pushes it slightly and stands horrified at what she sees. Mrs Owen freezes in her spot, all the colour draining from her beautiful fair skin, before letting out an ear-piercing scream.