I spoke to my dad yesterday telling him I'd be staying home for a while. He seemed excited. The front door was left open so I figured he was waiting for me. I walked in and it was eerily quiet. The TV was muted. "Dad?!" I called out, looking around the house. The microwave timer was going off. I walked into the kitchen and saw my dad lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Our cats surrounding him, licking his face and laying on him. A shriek escaped my lungs and I stumbled back, covering my mouth.

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I didn't know what to do. I grabbed my phone and called 911. I fell to the floor by his side and started sobbing.