A teen frames her parents for her murder
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Inner monologue: I sit here ruthlessly plucking the wings off the butterflies that invade my stomach. Any moment now. I watch as they stand there accusing one another of finally paying attention to me, while unsurprisingly turning it into another argument about themselves. A knock on the door echoes with the sweet sound of my vengeance that finally, finally quiets their self-important voices. As the police take them both away, the butterflies briefly surge, but I have borrowed all of their wings to create my own and they settle back down as I get ready to fly.