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She was only five, still new to the world, but so old. She had yet fill her childhood with the correct amount of cruelty it seemed to demand, had yet to taste the words adults told her to never repeat on her own lips. She knew many things however. Like how to laugh, how to play...how to stay away.
She was only eight. Too many people had left, all without a goodbye. She saw red in the eyes of her father and tears in her mother’s. She knew how to tell mocking laughter from the real kind and when to hide. She knew how to pray and how to expect nothing.
Just go away!!
Maybe I will!!
She was only eleven. Crimson coated the snow. A ball laid nearby, forgotten by the frightened children. Blood dripped from her nose and swelled up like a plum. She tasted it. She now knew why red was a lovely color in her house.
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