La Petite Fille

Le Quotidien

...
On December 13th, 2022, a little girl, less than hour before her birthday, died. And I alert them kill her. She was a vibrant little girl, chipper, curious, intelligent, caring, kind, an overall beautiful soul. She didn't have the best life and she wasn't always treated with love wether it was family, friends, or a stranger on the street. It hurt her to receive such cruel treatment but she had learned to bottle it up. As for one seemed to care or her problems "weren't that deep," to even complain about. No she wasn't perfect but what child is? Like adults, children make mistakes too and they shouldn't have or held to their necks like a knife. She wanted nothing more to see others happy even at the expense of her own and well... As you can imagine that came with its own set of problems and trauma. But what she really wanted in the world was to write stories. She'd imagine herself in her own office building working with her employees sell her lates manga or comic books. The little girl imagine was incredibly and she had untapped talent for it in her writing. That if trained properly, I'd say she win high awards, gain fame, & fortune. But the fame and fortune didn't interest her, yes she'd like to have financial support to continue her career. She love for creative writing always over powered the want for those worldly things. Of course she shared her dreams with the ones she loved and was with both support; and doubt. But it sooner felt like the doubt over powered the support when her mother told her she need to be more realistic. Hurt, she argued back and informed her mother she had a plan and was willing to fight for the dreams. The mother didn't listen, instead she persisted that she be realistic and that she wasn't going to allow her to go far away to pursue those dreams. Distraught, the little girl listened and did as she was told. She was terrible miserable but she kept it to her self because no one would care. In the first semester she did great, and ended it with a 3.75. She didn't tell anyone of her accomplishments, frankly she didn't care for this. It served as a reminder that she'd never be able to do what she truly wanted and was doing it for the sake of not getting in trouble or deal with the disappointment. Spring semester wasn't too kind to her; hard classes; unhelpful professors; fake friends; severe decline in her mental health; heartbreak; alcoholism; drugs; and anxiety; mauled her like starving lions in a lions den. But this was just the beginning. For the next two and a half years, she fought tooth and claws to stay alive. Each half step was 10 step backs deeper than before. At this point in time she was unrecognizable to herself. Who was this strange person and laying in the middle of the lions den. Even the lions themselves wanted nothing to do with her. I remember how she looked; cold red sunken in eyes; flesh opened and plagued with maggots; dozens of flies swarmed her; skull disfigured; patches of her were hair gone; you could vividly see where the lions feasted on her body the most; And blood, enough to fill a pool. She was a corpse. I pitted her. I cried for her. I wondered how could this so bad and no one even batted an eye. Yet there was something strange, that puzzled me, she had a stab wound in to the heart w the knife still impaled through the chest. Who could've done it? Who locked her in the a den full of lions and cold heartedly delivered the final blow? A stab to the heart... Well if it wasn't obvious, it was me. I cold bloodily murdered, myself. I selfishly choose this because I couldn't bare another night screaming a wailing. It haunted me. She just wouldn't shut up about that stupid dream. She didn't understand or wanted to that it was going to never happen. There wasn't place in the world for us and I tried to get her to understand that, but she was too stubborn to listen. So, I took control and I took it by force. Now as I piss on her grave and kick dirt over it, I can now start the real world, doing real things and accomplishing real goals. No more distractions or silly ideas. We must abide by the rule of life so that we don't ended up repeating history, this time, we'd actually be dead and the real body buried.