Freeze
First and foremost, I think Social Services is a joke. I also don't see the reason why they think it's so necessary to intervine in my life.
That being said, maybe you'll understand why I have to kill this woman. I need to stop her stupid prodding statements like, You know, you'd be a Junior in high school if you attended. Or, You're very pretty. I'm sure you'd have boys all over you if you made an attempt at making friends. Then, the statement that bothers me the most, All you need to do is give us a name and we'll find your parents for you.
She doesn't realize that I don't want to be with them. Kids don't just run away and then regret it. Anyway, I'm standing over her and she's pleading for me to stop freezing her arm.
I don't.
My smile grows as I watch the ice slowly make its graceful and somewhat poetic way from her arm, to her chest, to her neck, and finally, to her face. Her expression stays frozen as a scream, and the pain is evident.
I step back, admire my work, and then shatter her body.
That is the end of Ms. Jefferson the Social Worker.
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