THAT 6-WORD STORY IS SO SAD WHY MISS HUDSON WHY(week 8)

I am a thief, a thief of baby booties. Not actual baby bums, but shoe-booties, the booties that young children wear... I am a collector of such things, and I must have them all. I spend all my wealth on these booties, but their was one pair....

THAT A COUPLE STOLE FROM ME, so what do I do? I steal 'em. I need these booties, I need these booties in my hands. I must feel the booties, smell the booties. One night I dressed in a dark silk and slippers of a dark black tint, and I quietly strutted across their lawn and when reaching the supposedly locked door, I found it was unlocked. I opened the door, and listened for the couple-- and hearing their snores, I proceeded to the room where I would soon find my glorious baby booties. Entering said room, I looked around and was awestruck at the amount of wrapped gifts... sighing, I started unwrapping them, quietly. I finally found the booties and when I did, I fell on my knees and tears ran down my cheeks from all the overwhelming joy that I felt. "I have done it!! I HAVE FOUND THE BOOTIES!!" 

I was too loud, the couple woke up.. I quickly stuffed the booties in my tunic and ran out the back door, I hear their screams of finding their gifts trashed-- but I didn't care. I got myself the booties I needed for my collection, and my collection is more important than anything.

4 years later

I'm dead. I died by suffocation. Too many booties surrounded me as I slept and an earthquake sent them falling on top of me and I suffocated in a matter of 4 minutes. Now, as a ghost I gazed upon my brothers sorting through my booties, and shaking their heads in disbelief they nailed a sign in the front of my yard, "For sale: baby shoes, never worn," it said.