emilia kerensky {d10} cb, fin

They have pulled the trigger on my early youth.

When it happened, my mind went blank and I fell apart. Small girl, glass girl, girl who had supposedly killed before she turned twelve; it was too much for them. So, they bid me farewell, planted a kiss on my forehead which would never grow, never bloom to anything more than a half-hearted, frankly half-assed 'I love you'.

We used to sit on the edge of the silos, it was how we would get the best view of the land, the sunrise and sunset. Talking for hours about what we would grow up to be, how we'd lose ourselves in the possibilities and fragments of time that housed great expectations and even greater dreams. But she shuffled, and she fell and I couldn't do anything and I couldn't even move and all I could feel was a thousand million butterflies unleashed into my stomach which made me feel like a flower that had grown and wilted all within a few seconds.

I took a breath, heard her cry and watched my best friend disappear.

And I was turned to stone by those who questioned the truth. They thought it was me that did it, that I had the means and motives to pull off a murder. That is why they gave me up, that is why I find myself stuck in a home for those who are too far gone to ever be wanted or saved. They look at me and see poison in my desperate, tired eyes.

Here, in every crowded room, I feel alone. I find myself staying up at night talking to the moon hoping that she's listening on the other side.

I miss her.

I miss her because I loved her.

And one day, I'll tell that to the moon.