• Listening.
    Listening for the piercing scream of the young girls,
    Listening for the stomache-churning sound of blood hitting walls,
    Listening for that lone child,
    crying softly,
    Hiding.

    You reach your hand out to that trembling thing
    Curled up on the dirty floor,
    Covered in blood.

    The child's hands
    So small,
    So cold,
    Shaking.

    The child's eyes
    Bright green,
    Brimming with tears.

    The child runs,
    So obviously scared,
    Behind the dusty counter.

    You reach for her.
    You stop.
    You realize she's the one.

    Behind the screaming.
    Behind the blood.
    She was the one.

    You realize to late.
    She stabs,
    She runs,
    You finally figured out
    Thats shes the one.

    To bad you can't talk
    To tell the truth
    She killed you
    She murdered,
    To bad for you.