The scene looked like something from a horror movie. The room a mess, clothes and toys scattered haphazardly, pages of books ripped from the spine. She sat in the middle of the bed in a defiant pose, arms crossed on her chest, staring at a group of random letters that she smeared on the walls with red finger paint. Her defiance could be felt by all senses, the room swarmed with it. How could such a sweet child become such a demon when she did not get her way?

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