AN IMAGINARY FRIEND

My daughter had an imaginary friend when she was little. I was completely okay with it. She used to tell me about this friend who was called 'Ms. Poppy'.
Ms. Poppy lived under her bed and had a cat. She was quite old according to my daughter; she used a stick to stand and walk around.
One day I came home and my daughter was sitting at the dining table with a knife in hand. This scared me a little and I made a mental note to keep the kitchen knives in the upper shelves so she wouldn't play with them again.
Later that day, she came to me and sat down by my side. I noticed how she wasn't smiling like she usually did.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Today I played a lot with Ms. Poppy."
"Oh, that's great. How's her cat by the way? Did you play with her too?" 
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because; I killed the cat."
I was taken aback. It wasn't her words that scared me. It was the unusual smile and the lack of remorse on her face that did.