She took her purse, quickly and aimlessly sprayed some cheap cologne and went out of the door, panting, combing her hair with one hand and attempting to put on an earring using the other. The television noise gets to her nerves; her children, two boys aged ten and eight, were casually watching the usual morning cartoon show of a dumb cat trying to catch the smart mouse and ends up into more trouble. After succeeding in doing her multitasking trick, she pulls the plug of the television off. Her hand trembled. "We're leaving this house. Right now," she told her children, who then looked very shocked and confused. "There's no time left," she said as she grabbed both kids by the hand in the collars of their shirts, and dragged them near the main door. She slams the door open. Gunshots greeted the bland morning.
She dropped her sons on the floor, and she dropped dead.
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