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Rated: E · Draft · Emotional · #1169675
This is the first page of the book I am currently working on. More to follow.
January 2000

         I never wanted this to happen. I never meant to hurt anyone. I just wanted to go home. You understand don’t you? Please say you do. Please. Someone has to understand. Can’t you? Can’t anyone? Am I really all alone? Is it true then? She’s really dead?
         Yes.
         Yes. That’s all you can say? Yes. Like she doesn’t matter.
         She didn’t matter to you. Until you killed her.
         I wanted to go home! That’s all I wanted! To go home.
         I understand that, sir, but the fact is.
         No! You don’t understand! None of you do! You can’t! You can’t.
         Sir, please. Calm down.
         I am calm. I haven’t killed myself yet. Doesn’t that prove that I'm calm?
         Sir, I need you to sit down.
         I can’t. You don’t understand.
         Sir, if you would just sit down you could tell me what happened. Then I’ll understand.
         No.
         No what? No you won’t explain?
         No. No you’ll never understand. You and everyone else here. You can’t. I can’t. She’s dead, and I killed her. I killed that poor child. I just wanted to go home. Can’t you let me go home?
         I can’t do that, sir. Please sit down. I don’t want to have to call the orderly.
         What will happen to her?
         I’m sorry?
         What will happen to the girl? The girl, damit! What will happen to the girl!
         One more outburst from you and I’ll have no choice but to call the orderly. Now sit down.
         What will happen to the girl? Tell me! Wait. Wait! Where are they taking her? I can see them through the window. They’re wheeling her away. Why is her face covered? She won't be able to see.
         Sir, she’s gone, she can’t see anything. They’re probably taking her to the local morgue.
         No! They can't do that! Uncover her face, you bastards! She can’t see! She’s afraid of the dark! Please uncover her face! Please.
         Please sit down, Mr. Naughton. Your daughter is dead.
© Copyright 2006 Sharrakar (evilbookworm86 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1169675-Emily-Rose