Cry for Help

short story part 1/1

I remember her like it was yesterday. She was eight years old, and had the mind of a 30 year old maniac. She had long and soft brown hair, big brown eyes that were filled with emptiness, evil, and sometimes if you were lucky, even innocence. She had big rosy cheeks, and little pink lips. She was gorgeous like a doll. Her name was Julissa. She liked when I went to her room, so that I could stay and play with her for a while. She must have felt so lonely. No one would go to her room unless they had to. I bought her toys whenever I could, they had to be inoffensive. Toys that wouldn't remind her of what she did the year before. Toys that wouldn't make her try to kill someone else. Every time she saw Doctor Martinez she was full of hate, evil, and revenge. At first I thought that she hated doctors but I'm a doctor too, and she was always sweet and quiet with me. I guess I reminded her of her father. I just couldn't get the idea in my head of how a sweet little girl like her could have killed both of her parents.

They say that one day she heard her parents arguing in the kitchen that her father was unfaithful. One day she was playing but remembered her mother crying, so she decided to kill her father. She went to her parent's room with a cold, long knife in her little hands and saw somebody on the bed, and she stabbed the figure. She made a mistake... that was her mother. Some hours later her father found the body and as he was trying to call the police. She came behind him and stabbed him in the back. Julissa always told the psychiatrist that it was her father's fault for making her mother suffer, and he wasn't on the bed when she needed to kill him. I just couldn't imagine a seven year old being able to commit an atrocity like that. One day it was raining hard, and I went to Julissa's room and she was crying. I asked her what was wrong and she stared at me for a little while. I remember her big eyes full of tears and her face was red. She turned her head. I asked her if she trusted me and she looked at me again. I hugged her, and I remember she got close to my ear and I'll never forget what she told me. She said, "It's okay mommy, we will be together soon." Her hands were cold, and I felt so scared that my heart jumped. I was never afraid of her; maybe I just couldn't see her as a murderer. But at that very moment I felt like she had a cold soul. I tried to not show my fear but my heart was beating too fast and she knew it. She moved away from me and screamed, "No! Don't be scared, I just wanted you to stop suffering; I didn't mean to kill you! It was daddy's fault!" I was in the corner when the other doctors came in, but that only made her angry. Days passed, I was monitoring her from the computer. She stared at the clock a lot and played with the toys I bought her. One of them broke, but surprisingly she wasn't angry she just kept playing. One day I was alone in my office and I turned my computer on to check on Julissa. I could still see the image of her when she turned her head and looked into the camera like she was staring at my soul. Later I went back into her room but didn't say anything. She looked like she hadn't slept for days. She looked at me and said, "They took you away from me for the last time mommy, don't they know that it hurts?" I went quietly to hug her. She was crying, but not sobbing, crying silently like she was suffering but didn't want to let anyone know. They just couldn't understand her; they couldn't understand that she was silently crying for help. But I knew. I used to do the same. I used to cry until I fell asleep every night. Silence my pain with tears, hoping that it would just go away, but it never did. And when I saw Julissa crying I knew her pain because I have always felt it When I hugged her she was staring at me to calm down, she really saw me as her mother; I never said I wasn't because it would have just hurt her more. I always tried to make her happy even if it was just for a few moments.

One day I was going to her room to give her the new toys I bought her. But when I came in I felt like my stomach left my body for a second. I tried to scream but couldn't make any noise. I was horrified. I saw Julissa on the floor with her stomach cut opened, her organs coming out of her, her little hands covered in blood, and the broken toy with blood next to her bed. There was a message on the wall in front of her lifeless body which said, "See mommy, I'm finally going to be with you forever!" I collapsed. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital, and Dr. Martinez was next to me.A nurse came in and asked, "Mrs. Martinez, how are you feeling right now?" I didn't answer, the words wouldn't come out. A voice inside was still screaming, still trying to call for help. But the only words what came out were "I'm ok, don't worry."

Days later I looked at the security footage from Julissa's room. I saw her tears running down her cheeks before she took the broken the toy that I gave her. I saw the pain in her eyes, like her only salvation was to kill herself to be with her mother. I felt like it was my fault. I gave her that toy, that toy that she used to end her life. Even today sometimes I dream about her, how beautiful she was, and how much pain she was feeling to have ended her life. I was the only person who understood what she was going through. I knew how it was to silence your pain because nobody understood. But sometimes people just don't listen to the cry, the cry for help.

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