What if Vriska was your daughter?

It's a beautiful summer day outside.

Or at least it was. The sky is now thick with ready-to-burst stormclouds, which means it's probably time to head inside. You mark your place in the book you were idly flipping through and call out to your daughter.

"Vriska?"

A loud squeal draws your attention to the corner of the yard. There's a rustle in the hedges, and up pops a tangled mess of black hair atop a wide-eyed gray face.

"Yes, daddy?"
"Time to go in."
"AwwwWWWwwww. Do I have to?"

You stand up and stretch. "Yes, unless you want to stay out in the rain."

"I wouldn't mind," she huffs. Nonetheless she disappears back into her bush and pops out clutching something tightly in her small arms. You stroll across the yard as Vriska runs circles around you, giggling and making all manner of little girl noises. You pull open the screen door and she flies past you like a blur.

"Vriska, sweetie?"

She turns to you, arms still locked around her precious object.

"What's in the jar?"
"Aaaaaaaanimals."
"What kind?"
"Guess!"

She begins to teeter on her feet.

"Are they frogs?"

She shakes her head.

"Crickets?"

"Nope!" She's barely hiding a smile now.

"Bird eggs?"

No response.

"Well, I give up. What kind of animals are they?"

She sidles right up to you, stands on her tiptoes, and lifts the jar less than an inch from your face. "'piders."

There are no less than two dozen spiders merrily skittering around handfuls of twigs and leaves. Most are the size of bottle caps, one is easily the size of an orange.

You awaken several minutes later to a sobbing Vriska holding the hand of your next door neighbor.

"Oh my god, are you alright? I came as soon as I heard the screaming."

You don't remember any screaming.

"Yeah, fine, fine. I'm fine," you mutter as you pull yourself up. "Low blood sugar, you know. I'll be fine."

"Your little girl gave me quite the scare when she ran here. Made it sound like someone had been murdered. You sure you're okay?"

You've pulled yourself into a chair by now, and Vriska breaks away to come and latch on to your side. "Yes, thanks. I really appreciate you coming over."
"It's no problem at all. I'll catch you folks later."

They turn to leave and you bring a hand to your face to massage your temples. Good lord.

"Oh, hey, man."

You spread your fingers and peer at your neighbor.

"You oughta get that glass cleaned up. Dangerous with kids around, you know?"

The blood drains from your face as you lean over the table to see the shattered remnants of what was, at one point, a mason jar full of spiders.

Your neck itches.