Ana's Knife
Ana looked down at her hands, the red was so pretty. Dripping in drops off her fingertips and onto her mothers white floor. What would her mother think if she could see her beloved floors now? Oh, but it did not matter what Ana's mother thought any more; she was causing most of the floor to turn into the pretty, pretty red.
Mayada's Spoon
There was something disgusting about doing this, Mayada thought brightly, sticking her spoon in yet again. She turned it carefully, slowly gathering the liquid; that was the part she liked. Her brother eat anything, so he would not mind having no liquid. When she filled her spoon just the right amount, Mayada slowly took it out, as not to drop a single drop. Holding the spoon in one hand and holding a lighter in another, she slowly stated heating up the liquid. Cold blood is not at all appealing.
Samar's Story
The story that would change the world, is what she was writing. Typing as fast as possible in order to keep up with her thoughts, Samar's fingers played song on the keyboard. The banging on the door also encouraged her to go faster and faster. It would be soon that they would be able to get into the locked room. She needed to tell people about her death before it was to late.
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