Send My Love to the Grave

The tears stung my eyes and the leaves and twigs that laid on the damp forest floor crunched under my bare feet. I begged myself not to let out a cry, but it was too late now. Too late to hear the things I had, to not see the nightmares that played before me like a horror movie. I kept running, not daring to look back to see his murderous face or hear those stinging words leave his mouth.

It was cold that night, the air harsh against my face as I ran for my cubby house, my safe haven.

The once glittery dress and fairy wings were covered in mud and soaked with rain. I looked the way I felt. I spotted the little wooden house ahead and seemed to gain speed with every step.

I would escape.

I ran into the splintered door and forced it open, slamming it shut harshly. The silenced filled the air like water filling lungs. It hurt my ears and I sat down, feeling numb from the cold and fear that had over-taken my body.

I suppose I was handling this well, given my age. I was just eight when my Uncle ruined my family's lives; took them.

The door flew open and I squealed, running to the corner and bringing my knees to my chest. His dark figure stood in the doorway, and I watched his hand reach toward me. I cried harder and shut my eyes, burying my head in my knees and trying to make the bad man go away. But nothing worked. He grabbed my arm with his strong, blood-lathered hand and I felt my blood go cold.

I died that day...