You're Next, Part One Of Two Revised.

"Bye, my loves." Lacey's mom, Misty, announces as she gives a kiss to her husband and their five daughter; soon, she's trouting out the front door and starting the engine of the car, backing out of the driveway and heading down the sun-illuminated road. Lacey and her dad watched until her mom's car was a small dot far down the road; Lacey kept waving, even though her mom couldn't see her from such a distance.

Lacey knew that now, since her mom was gone on her business trip, she'd be alone. Being alone was something she could deal with, although she didn't favor it. In a way, she wished her father didn't have to work as much as he did; her mom had tons of work and still made time to spend and play with Lacey.

"I'm tired, daddy." Lacey cries out; it was pretty early, even for a child.

"Go inside, then." her father, Austin, tells her, clearing his throat. She sighs, opening the door and heading for her room; she just wanted to be tucked in, to be sung a lullaby. Maybe those were simply jobs only her mom could do, she thought, already feeling as if a piece of her was missing.

It wasn't long after she fell asleep, maybe an hour or so, before she again awoke. She sat on her bed, bored out of her mind, trying to think of anything she could do. Then, she decided to have a tea party with her stuffed animals; her mom would always make real tea and cookies for her. Wanting it to be as normal, she hurries down the steps, somewhat tripping at the sound of a shriek, sounding as if it came from a grown man - her father. Upon the scream, she runs as fast as she can down the steps until she's down on the bottom floor of her house. She eagerly sprints to her dad's office, the door being opened widely, an unusual thing. She then sees what the scream came from; she stares at the lifeless body laying on the floor, eyes open with blood oozing out of a single wound, around where the heart should be. She runs towards her father's body, dropping to her knees as a sob escapes her lips, tears streaming down her face quicker than rain can fall from the sky; she didn't quite understand death but she knew her father was no longer there. She shakes him in hopes of waking him, yelling out. "Daddy, daddy!" But there was no response. She hurries towards his desk, as that's where the house phone was. She dials the number that was embedded in her mind, 9-1-1. Upon an answer, she explains as to why she's calling. "M-my name's Lacey. I'm five. My daddy's bleeding on the floor and won't get up.. I.. I think he's dead, please come save my daddy. I need him." She tells them how she knows to get to her house, unknowing of the absolute address although her mom was working on teaching it to her; it'd surely be helpful about now.

The cops arrive around fifteen minutes later, loading up her father onto the stretcher, covering up the dead body. Lacey was outside, alone with a cop asking her what she knew. "I don't know!" she would exclaim in a frustrated matter.

As the cops searched inside for clues on the obvious murder, they happen to find a note on Austin's desk, written in sloppy handwriting that didn't match his signature.

"Dear little Lacey, you're next."