The Victim

Part 5

She always was a victim to herself, my Rosie; after the horrors she had endured, who could blame her? I could always picture the image, embedded in my mind many years previously, of a smile. A girl who got lost in herself, by herself, and had the ghastly scars to prove it.

Which is why I ran, as fast as my unstable legs could stride, to where I knew she'd be, to try and save her precious existence. But once again, I was too late; she was already gone, out of the fiery pit of unbreakable misery, and into the crystal sea.

I do as I was asked, of course. I rocked her Mother's shrilling screams and river of repulsion filled tears into her dull, brown carpet, as we slouch there, staring at a picture of a beautiful brunette girl we knew years ago.