Dementia's Decay

I'm about to vomit. I can't believe what I found in Pinkie's home today. I just can't.

I wanted to check my deceased friend's home today, to see if there was an incentive behind her suicide. I knew she wasn't the type to be depressed, or even come across the slight thought of self-destructive behavior, so I figured there had to be a reason that she'd do something like this.

I unlocked her front door with the spare key under the mat, and slowly walked inside. After turning on a couple of lamps, everything looked fine on the inside. Every individual item was where it should have been, nothing out of place. I remembered something important that needed to be checked up on in Pinkie's home: Gummy.

After Pinkie's death, Gummy wouldn't have anywhere to go. I decided I'd try to find a home for him, if not take him in myself. I never really cared for him that much, but after what's happened, it's the least I could do to find a place for him to stay.

I went to the upstairs bedroom, where Pinkie usually kept Gummy when she was out. The bedroom was also well-organized and had a normal appearance. Gummy, however, was nowhere to be seen. I decided to check the bathroom before leaving to search for him. I casually opened the door, disgusted at what I had found.

Gummy was severed into multiple different pieces, splayed across the floor of the bathtub. Blood pooled along the base of the tub, as some dismembered body parts had started to float in the unnerving red river. His eyes and tongue were cut out and placed in the bathroom sink, water still running from the faucet.

I held in my body's attempt to vomit all over the floor, trying to look away from the hideous scene before me. Would Pinkie do something like this? She couldn't! Gummy was her beloved pet! It's just not possible!

Why is this happening? Why?