He comes to visit me everyday and tuck me into bed, he’s supposed to be my mama’s husband, mama doesn’t know it yet but she will, real soon, if he lives. I see things, I know things, my friends tell me these things, it’s weird, no-one else sees them. They think I’m loony, my mama and every one else. But he doesn’t think so, he knows I’m okay. He calls me Daddy’s little girl.
They point at me and laugh but I find solace in the arms of my “friends” they call me dumb because I keep getting held back in most grades, now I’m 19 and I don’t go to school no more, they said school isn’t for freaks like me.
He’s here again and he’s come to tuck me into bed, my mama ain’t home, probably at her night job, he starts touching me in places I never touch, it feels kinda funny and I’m starting to like it but my friends scream at me to stop, you’ll get defiled, they say, you won’t ever see us again, you have to choose him or us, tough choice for me but the feelings are getting nicer for me so I block them out.
I remember the blood, so crimson and thick, reminds me of cranberry juice just much ticker, my daddy (nice ring to it) was leaning over me about to put his thing in me and had a surprised look on his face, it took one knife and more than a pair of hands to do that.
I’m in a psychiatric cell now, they think I did it, no-one believes me, not even my mama, she says she’d kill me if she ever sees me in her home again. My friends are coming tomorrow, they’ll keep me company, I know they will, but what of my cell mates? Because you see, my friends say they need more blood now.
Author’s note: One is such a small number but dangerous all the same, one wrong turn to miss your destination, one stab or one bullet through the heart to die, one mistake to destroy trust or a life, ok I’ll stop now, you get my point. I hope.
Have a lovely day 🙂
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