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Little Girl
She’s fake. She has spent years building up walls and painting her mask. Alone in her corner, faking a smile. She does it because it’s what is expected of her. She does it because people want her to. They are happier when she is happy. And she doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. For their sake, she continues. She continues to step down the road. She continues to exist. Just for them.
She’s alone. The walls she’s built are close around her. She’s safe in her space. No room for intruders. No room for someone to slip in and hurt her. No room for anyone. Only room for her. She’s safe there, she thinks. Safe inside the prison she’s built. And they’re safe too. With her inside, she won’t hurt them. With her trapped, she can’t drag them down with her.
She’s fragile. She’s a lost cause, she knows. She can’t tell anyone. If they knew, what would they do? They would leave her, she knows. But without them keeping her here, she would shatter. They will leave her one day, she knows. Her walls won’t stand forever. She’ll let her guard down, and they’ll crumble around her, trapping her under the rubble. And then they’ll see her for who she is; helpless and worthless, and they’ll walk away. Then she’ll brake, and fade away.
She’s afraid. She doesn’t want that day to come. She doesn’t want to disappoint them. She doesn’t want them to know all the time they spent with her was a waste. She doesn’t want to lose their acceptance. She’s just a child. Lost and crying. She’s confused. She doesn’t belong. She wants a home. She wants to be loved. So she holds up those walls with all her strength.
She’s weak.
She’s selfish.
She’s nothing. Not anymore. She gives up.
She’s drowning in a sea of tears. She sinks below the surface. She goes deeper and deeper into the darkness. And she starts to wish.
/I wish it didn’t have to come to this/ as the water pushes down on her. /I wish they’ll forget me to protect their feelings. I wish it will be painless/ her last bubbles escape her mouth. /I wish for freedom./
She’s so close. She closes her eyes. Her tears are invisible underwater. In her last moments of consciousness she looks deep inside herself. She thinks of a dream she had. She remembers an arm plunging into the water. She remembers a hand gripping hers and pulling her from the depths. She remembers those arms wrapping around her, holding tight, and never letting go. She remembers feeling safe in those arms. She remembers crying. But the tears didn’t sting her skin, or feel bitter on her tongue. Because he was there to wipe them away.
She clutches her chest and allows herself to wish once more.
/I wish he would save me./
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This article has 1 comment.
"Little girl, little girl
Why are you crying?
Inside your restless soul
Your heart is dying"
/italicize/ doesn't seem to work here, but I put slashes to indicate her thoughts.