I Really Hope To See You Die

Why you don't get yourself killed, eh?

She's looking to your photos, tears them apart, and collates them back. Continuously.
Tears roll down her face, dripping from her round chin, get those photos wet.
Still, she's tearing them apart, collating them back, tearing again, collating again.

Now she's up. She takes something from a kitchen table. Ah, lemonade.
Wait, what she's doing?

She scrapes the lemonade into the photos, causing them to exfoliate.

You should be dead! you should be dead!

She's still scraping the lemon.
But, wait, why.. she's crying louder.

If there were people who would pay me to kill someone. I will kill you first!

Snap!
She falls, accidentally.
Fainted.