Author's note: I ONLY own Stella! She is MY OC! Just lettin ya know.

‘Do you, remember me?

Lost for so long…

Will you be on the other side?

Or will you forget me?’

- Evanescence's "Torniquet".

Chucky's POV

I still can’t believe she’s never coming back. It’s hard for me…to even think about…her. My daughter, Stella. She was murdered when she was only 5-years-old sometime on the night of her birthday. That day, October 4, 1985, was one of the best days of my life…at least, that’s what I thought.. I was watching my little Stella grow up. It seemed like yesterday, when I first held her close to me, after she was born. She was growing up so fast! After she had turned 4, she always asked questions, questions that a normal child would never even think about asking. I didn’t know where she got it from. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t from me or Tiffany, so it might just be something Stella developed on her own. It’s hard to think that I’ll never get to see her small, angelic face, that lit up my world from the day she was born…

Before Stella was born, Tiffany and I fought all the time, usually about something stupid and pointless. But after Stella was born, we both changed. We stopped arguing, and because of Stella, we were one big happy family…But that quickly changed on the day of October 5, 1985, the day I learned that my precious daughter, had been beaten and strangled to death. That morning, Tiffany had found a ransom note, and the moment I read that very note, I remembered from the very night before, hearing a small child’s cry fill our home. I was the only one who had heard it. But…I had checked Stella’s room, to see if she was alright, and when I peeked inside, I saw her small form, hidden under the covers.

That night, it didn’t seem like anything was wrong, but now, after I finally learned who had murdered my baby, I blame myself for the whole thing. Tiffany constantly tries to convince me it wasn’t my fault that our daughter died, but who is she kidding? It was my fault. I was her father, and it was my job to protect her from harm. And I failed. Especially in her final hour alive, she had been crying for me. According to her murderer’s testimony. I was the only one who heard her scream…And, I did nothing. I let her die, and I knew that from the moment I found her in the bathtub. It looked as though her killer wanted my Stella to suffer, for as long as she did. And for no good reason…Just for his sick, twisted pleasure.

Not only did he steal my child’s life, in such a violent way, but he ruined me and Tiffany’s lives as well. It was because of him, that Tiffany and I, constantly had to hear the untrue rumors about us, that I murdered Stella, and that Tiffany wrote the fake ransom note. Even worse, was hearing that I sexually abused Stella and murdered her in some sorta of cover-up. I’d never do that to her. Whatever people thought, it wasn’t true. I loved Stella. Tiffany and I know that, and Stella…wherever she was, hopefully knew that to. I always reminded Stella, when she was alive, that I loved her. She would always flash me a smile and say, “I love you too, daddy,” before giving me a big hug, like she always had done before.

The funeral was even more heart wrenching. Having to bury my only, defenseless daughter, was something I never thought I’d ever have to do. I couldn’t help but shed tears over Stella’s passing. Crying was something I never do, but Stella was my child, so it was hard trying to fight the tears back. During the whole funeral, I couldn’t help but imagine the pain and suffering Stella had to go to in her last hour alive. Why did it have to be my baby? She truly was a gift to Tiffany and I. She was so sweet and gentle with everyone and everything she ever came in contact with, that when she was about 4-years-old, she was so convinced that everyone in the world was a good person, no matter how evil they were. I had tried to tell her that not everyone was a good on the inside, but she only smiled and said, “No, Daddy. Everyone is a good person on the inside, you just have to let them know that. Even if they don’t believe you, you just have to give them time to realize it for themselves.” I guess that saying really is true: Only the good die young.

After the funeral, me and Tiffany tried to start our own investigation into Stella’s murder. But, it didn’t work out as we had planned. Instead, I murdered the people who had written the lies about us in their disgusting, fake news articles. At first, it was just for revenge, but then, I was murdering people as a way to get my mind off of my own child’s murder. It worked though. I was really able to forget about the months before, and instead focused on my new hobby. Killing.

Even though I killed the bastard who took my child’s life, it didn’t help me get through my loss. Just because he was dead, didn’t mean Stella was just going to magically appear, safe and sound in my arms, like before. No. Stella was still, now nothing but a skeleton, under the earth. She had her whole life ahead of her. I know a few things she had been looking forward to before she died. She desperately wanted her mother and I, to get married. If Stella had lived, I most likely would have married Tiffany, and Stella would have been our little flower girl at our wedding. But because Stella died, that never happened. Tiffany and I did get married, but we didn’t have our little flower girl with us, like we wanted. Another thing Stella wanted, was a little brother or sister. She always, randomly out of nowhere would say, “I wish I had a sibling.” Though Stella was never the type of child to whine for something, she did always ask me, “Daddy, when are you and mommy going to have another baby?” I always told her, “Soon, Stella. Mommy and I will have one soon. I promise.” I really did mean it. Tiffany and I did try for another baby, so that Stella could be a big sister, but after we had Stella, for some reason…Tiffany couldn’t get pregnant again. And then it was to late. Stella was dead, and I no longer wanted any more children. Stella was, and always will be my first born child. I only pray, that maybe someday, I’ll finally get to see Stella once again. My daughter, my baby, my Stella.