"Mama! Papa!"

A small girl, aged five, runs towards her house.

No answer.

Three different pink flowers in her hand. A pink camellia for her papa, a pink carnation for her mama, the last one…

"Mama? Papa?"

She screamed. Blood was spreading on the floor, coming from the fallen bodies of her parents.

Dangerous looking men stood before her. One of them says,

"This is her," grabbing her roughly, making her drop the flowers.

She struggled but her little body was no match to those big filthy hands.

Not caring, the men stepped on the camellia and carnation. The last flower wasn't stepped on but,

The silence was so thick.

A man was kneeling in front of a little girl no older than six. 'A doctor,' she thinks, 'he's wearing a white coat.'

Her breathing was heavy. Her cheek stung. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

By her feet lies a gun.

"All you have to do," a man says to her. This one was crouching right beside her. She breathes shakily.

"Is to repeat after me," he smiles maliciously, unknown to her. She was staring at the other man instead.

"Pick up the gun, Doctor." He starts.

"P-p-pick u-up the gu-gun, Do-doctor," she repeats obediently, lest she gets slapped again. The doctor follows, amazingly.

"Point it to your head," he sneers.

"P-please n-n-no," the doctor begs. The girl hesitates, looking over her shoulder.

"Well?" the man sneers at her, ignoring the other. She repeats it with the same stutter, not liking the man's look.

Again, the doctor just obeys, even though it was clear he didn't want to. He continues to beg for mercy.

Maliciously towards her, the man beside her says the one word that would change everything.

Closing her eyes, she repeated that one word that would taint her, "S-S-Shoot."

The gun fires.

Red…red covered the floor…some covered her.

Just like the flower that was dropped on the blood covered floor that fateful day.

Like that flower, an azalea…

She was Azalea and she was tainted with blood.