She hid in a dusty cupboard, her figure obscured by a thin gauze, surrounded by a damp musty smell.
She didn't dare to move or scream. Her green and white fingers clung to the hem of her skirt. She firmly remembered her mother's words and covered her mouth in the big skirt. But when an arc-shaped blood stain splashed on the gauze, she finally couldn't help but whimper.
Her mother is dead.