🚨 HEARTBREAKING PLEA FROM A MOM WHO LOST EVERYTHING: “If You Have ANY Photos of My Danika… Please Share” 😢

14-year-old Danika Troy was lured into Florida woods by “friends,” shot MULTIPLE TIMES, then SET ON FIRE – her body burned beyond recognition.

Her mom, Ashley, thought she was just a runaway… until the nightmare hit.

Now, in tears on Facebook: “She NEVER let me take pictures as a teen. I have so few memories left.”

The community’s flooding her with pics – but the killers? Two teen boys she trusted, one she LOVED.

What kind of evil does this to a girl dreaming of Christmas romance?

Share her story, not her silence.

In the quiet suburbs of Pace, a small town 16 miles northeast of Pensacola where Spanish moss drapes like funeral veils over oak-lined streets, Ashley Troy scrolls through her Facebook feed with trembling hands. It’s been just over a week since her 14-year-old daughter, Danika Jade Troy, was found in a desolate wooded path off Kimberly Road – shot multiple times at close range, doused in gasoline, and set ablaze in an act Santa Rosa County Sheriff Bob Johnson branded “horrific” and “unimaginable.” The discovery, made by a passerby on December 2, turned a missing-person report into a homicide nightmare, leaving a mother with more questions than photos to remember her “baby girl” by.

Danika, a fresh-faced eighth-grader at Pace Middle School with a penchant for electric scooters and secret crushes, vanished from her family’s modest home on November 30. Ashley, a single mom raising Danika and her 8-year-old sister alongside a tight-knit church community, reported her missing the next day after finding the girl’s black-and-red scooter gone. “I thought she was being a typical teen – maybe sneaking out to see a boy,” Ashley told PEOPLE in an exclusive December 8 interview, her voice cracking over the phone from her Pace living room. “She was grounded for it before, but she always came home with that goofy grin. Not this time.”

Unbeknownst to Ashley, Danika had been lured to the wooded trail – a remote spot locals use for walking dogs and escaping the humid Florida afternoons – by two classmates she considered friends: 14-year-old Kimahri Blevins and 16-year-old Gabriel Coleman Williams. Authorities say the boys, fueled by a toxic brew of social media slights and adolescent grudges, had plotted the attack for days. Williams, the older teen on whom Danika harbored a schoolgirl crush, allegedly stole his mother’s 9mm handgun and messaged her late that Sunday night: “Meet me – I miss you.” She trusted him implicitly, hopping on her scooter for what she believed was a romantic rendezvous under the stars.

What followed was a premeditated execution. According to arrest affidavits unsealed December 5, Blevins and Williams waited in the shadows of the trail near 3970 Kimberly Road. When Danika arrived, Williams opened fire, pumping multiple rounds into her petite frame – far more than the “one shot” initially planned, per a cooperating witness’s statement. As she lay bleeding, the boys doused her in gasoline pilfered from a nearby shed and ignited the flames, watching as the fire consumed her body alongside scattered 9mm casings and her abandoned scooter. A single scorched sneaker, matching the description Ashley gave police, was all that remained identifiable at first.

The passerby who stumbled upon the scene around noon on December 2 described it as “straight out of a horror movie.” “I saw the smoke first, then the… the smell,” the man, a local retiree who asked not to be named, told WEAR-TV later that day. “There was a shoe, half-melted, and casings everywhere. I called 911 shaking.” Deputies arrived to a charred corpse, so badly burned that initial identification relied on dental records rushed from a Pensacola orthodontist. By evening, the Santa Rosa County Sheriff’s Office confirmed it was Danika – the same girl whose “runaway” report had puzzled investigators just 48 hours prior.

The arrests came swift and shocking. Surveillance footage from a nearby gas station captured Blevins and Williams purchasing gasoline hours before the murder, giggling like kids on a dare. A witness – a mutual friend tipped off to the plan – cracked under questioning, revealing Blevins’s boastful texts: “Initial plan was one shot, but Gabe kept going. Then we lit her up and bounced.” Williams, when cornered, allegedly confessed partial details, blaming Danika for “hurtful comments” calling him “worthless” and a “gang-banger” on Snapchat. Blevins, meanwhile, admitted to the falling out: He’d blocked her after Thanksgiving drama, only to unblock for the fatal lure. “Motive doesn’t fit the savagery,” Sheriff Johnson fumed at a December 4 presser, his face etched with rare fury. “You’re 14, 16 – kids who should be worrying about homework, not hiding bodies. This was evil, pure and simple.”

Both boys face charges of first-degree premeditated murder, with Blevins – the younger – petitioned for adult trial. Williams, already on juvenile probation for a prior theft, is held without bond at Santa Rosa Correctional; Blevins, tearful in his mugshot, sits in juvenile detention pending a January hearing. Neither has entered pleas, and their families – described by neighbors as “good Christian folk” – have gone radio silent, dodging reporters camped outside modest ranch homes in Pace’s working-class enclaves.

For Ashley, the betrayal cuts deepest. Danika wasn’t just a daughter; she was her “little firecracker” – a tomboy who zipped around on her scooter, dreamed of becoming a veterinarian, and lit up youth group at Pace’s First Baptist Church with her infectious laugh. “She had this crush on Gabe – thought he was her knight in shining armor,” Ashley recounted, clutching a faded photo from Danika’s eighth birthday, one of the few she has. “Kids don’t think about consequences. She trusted him with her heart. It wasn’t hard to lure her. He had her wrapped around his finger.”

The void of memories hit Ashley like a second death. In the haze of grief, she turned to Facebook on December 7, posting a raw plea to her 1,200 friends: “Please anyone with photos of my Danika… post them here. She never would let me take any of her as a teen. I have so few left.” The post, accompanied by a blurry selfie of Danika grinning in braces, exploded overnight – 15,000 shares, 50,000 reactions. Strangers flooded her inbox: blurry yearbook snaps from Pace Middle, candids from church picnics, even a video of Danika belting out Taylor Swift at a talent show. “Every picture is a piece of her I lost,” Ashley said, scrolling through the deluge. “She was camera-shy lately – said she felt ‘ugly’ in her skin. Now I wish I’d fought harder for those moments.”

The community’s embrace has been a lifeline. A GoFundMe launched by a church friend, “Forever Danika: Honoring Her Light,” has raised $120,000 by December 9 – earmarked for funeral costs, a scholarship in her name for aspiring vets, and counseling for her little sister, who asks daily, “When’s Danni coming home?” Pace Middle canceled classes December 6 for grief counseling; vigils light up the soccer field where Danika once scored her first goal. “She was the girl who shared her lunch with anyone hungry,” a teacher told the Pensacola News Journal. “This town lost its spark.”

Yet amid the tributes, Ashley grapples with forgiveness. Speaking to the New York Post December 7, she revealed she harbors no hate for the boys – “Danika loved them, even after the fights” – but blames an “outside evil influence,” perhaps the dark undercurrents of social media-fueled rage. “I don’t know what demon possessed them,” she said. “But my girl was innocent. She just wanted love for Christmas.” Williams’s alleged motive – stinging online barbs – underscores a grim teen epidemic: Cyberbullying escalating to real-world violence, with Florida seeing a 25% spike in juvenile homicides tied to digital disputes since 2023, per state DOJ stats.

Sheriff Johnson’s team, lauding the “ground ball” evidence – from casings matched to Williams’s stolen gun to witness texts plotting the meetup – vows swift justice. “We don’t rest until monsters like this are caged,” he said. But for Ashley, justice feels hollow without Danika’s smile. Her Facebook wall, once a mosaic of mundane mom posts, now blooms with borrowed memories: Danika at the beach, arms flung wide; blowing out candles, eyes squeezed shut in wishes unspoken.

As Pace hunkers under December’s unseasonable chill, Ashley Troy holds vigil in her empty kitchen, phone aglow with ghosts. “She was my everything,” she whispers. “These photos? They’re all I have to prove she was here.” The woods off Kimberly Road stand silent, a scar on the landscape – but Danika’s light, pieced together pixel by pixel, refuses to fade. In a town reeling from senseless loss, one mother’s plea reminds: Memories, fragile as they are, endure where evil cannot.