The victim hides the evidence

So the villain won't be found

Sweeping up the fingerprints

And gagging their own mouth

Green sleeves and ruby shoes

To hide the things they did to you

Paint your face when it is bruised

Smile and say "I love you"

Rock myself to sleep on a boat called SS Dream

Rock myself to sleep, clear my mind of everything

Think about me when you close your eyes tonight

Think about me, in my dreams we'll meet alright?

I wanna meet the man of my dreams tonight

In a castle made of gold

I wanna wear a dress that's made of light

And dance together till we're old

I knew I was in love cause I couldn't fall asleep

I couldn't fall asleep cause you're the only dream I need

I knew I was in love cause when your lips touched mine

It wasn't me and you it was only us and time

When you would look at me

I knew what it is to be a butterfly

When you would look at me

I knew what it means to be alive

Right place, wrong time

My love, good bye.

Do you remember on that rooftop?

When we swore we'd make it through

Do you remember on that rooftop?

I was sitting next to you

We were sitting on that rooftop

Watching stars fall from the sky

My fingers on your buttons

And your hands were on my thigh

I tripped from where we sat

And you fell to someone new

I know that I am far to late

But "Darling, I love you."

I'm the one that shot the star out of the sky

BANG! It fell like a dead bird to the ground

It had glittered and hung like a diamond on a ring

It had silently stood, singing without sound

I'm the one that shot the star out of the sky

Now it's just a twinkle in my eye as it blinks

And a mini ocean starts to pour and leak

From my eye but my body doesn't think

Cause I'm the one that shot the star out of the sky

It's just a pile of ashes now, wisps of wishes on whim

Winners wanting, praying, seeking, competing

For what my star already had within

I'm the one that shot my star from the sky

It lays in a pile at my feet, smoking like weed

Wine and whiskey concede to the darkness that's left

Now the light is dead and there is no star in me

I'm the one that tripped and fell out of the sky

I was a star that glittered and flew

I hung above and watched the world with a smile

Of hope and joy because I knew

I was a star meant to hang in the sky

Full of faith in princes and angels and love

But there are no stars left so the sky is dark

It is quiet bellow, cloudy and empty above

Because I leapt out of the sky

My flickering light is dim, dying, fading, waning, wanting

I am tired, frail, weak, scared, pain inside me screams to escape

It scratches me inside my skin for a cut to crawl through-begging, screaming, needing

Should I make a hole so it can get out?

A door the pain can walk through taking its poison away? No, not today

I am stronger then this pain I am drowning in

There is one rope left to climb, does God wait for me in the sky?

Is He the one who threw the rope? I don't know, but I'll try

This little star is climbing back to the sky

Exquisite you say?

That I am, only eat one time a day. I am constantly concerned with how I look, I'm straight out of a fairytale book. My hair done, all the time. I've trained my face to smile. No matter what I look content, happy, sad, good.

I am exquisite...but is that good?

I am exquisite...but at what cost?

I am exquisite...But I am dying.

I am starving.

I am sick.

I am exquisite but my life will be short.

I am exquisite but I am unhappy.

I cannot be anything but exquisite...I am addicted to the reactions I receive.

I am Exquisite.

But I wish I wasn't.

My husband is dead. It is a sad day; I, along with twenty-seven other women all dressed as brides march behind the casket with downcast faces weeping. We do not weep for our husband. We weep for each other.

My name is Aite. I am the youngest of my husband’s wives and, at eighteen years old I have already born three children into the world-twin boys, Draco and Acheron, and a girl named Eris. They will not ever know their father really, they won’t remember him. I like it that way.

Most children in noble families never know their father, they only meet him-unless they are the eldest. I live in a strange country-on an island. I only believe our culture to be strange because of the white man who got lost at sea and joined us here a year ago. My husband commanded that he be received into my home and cared for-as the youngest and hence least privileged of his wives, it was my duty to show the rule of hospitality.

The white man’s name is John. He is not handsome like my husband or my boys. But he is kind. And learned our language well. There is no way off the island so he can only choose between us and death. John spent many nights telling me about the other lands in the world-the ones where there is only one wife no matter how noble a man is.

He says we are one of few cultures that still live this way. He has not quite been here a year so he does not know yet how strange we are. He will find out today.

I hold my baby girl in a sling on my back and I clutch the hands of my two little boys on either side of me. I stare at the floor as we process to the cave where we shall bury my husband with his long dead ancestors.

When we arrive, the rest of the village has already congregated. John stands among them, watching-confused. There is a strange air in the crowd today, he cannot understand all the words they say but he can feel the tension. He catches my eye. I was wrong, he is handsome. He tells me I am beautiful, I do not listen. He smiles at me and I look away. This is not a day to smile.

I wonder if perhaps my sister was right, and John loves me. But love is a strange word and only used for those who are married or should be married and I was already married.

The priest stands beside the casket, he takes my husband’s empty head and cuts a lock of hair from it. He beckons the oldest of my husband’s sons-son of his second wife-to stand beside him. The boy eats the hair and looks up at the sky. The priest takes a knife and carves an ‘X’ shape on the boy’s shoulder, he yells.

The ‘X’ is to let the gods in. He is our king now, and his first son, a small boy if his first wife, shall be our next king.

John winces as the knife cuts the boy and looks away, pained. He does not believe in the gods. I don’t know what I think anymore. I find myself more skeptical every day. John is right, they don't make sense. But they are all I have ever known.

The priest wipes the blood off of the knife and turns to the body. The boy lifts his father’s corpse and places it on the altar. The priest lifts an old sac, inside the sac are twenty-seven white rocks and one black one.

Our young king takes the sac and walks along the rows of women dressed as brides, each woman grasps a pebble and holds it tight so no one can see the color. I am the youngest so I go last. I take the only rock remaining.

I feel my heart rate rise as I run my fingers over the smooth pebble. I breathe in and out-I am afraid. I look up at John, he looks at me and smiles, he nods his head ever so slightly as if to tell me it’s all alright. I give a tiny smile back and tear my eyes from him and back to the ground.

The priest signals to us and we hold our right hands out fist down with the rock inside. He counts to three. I feel my little baby girl squirming in her pack, she has a cold-she is fussy. My two little boys cling to the hem of my skirt, frightened by all the people and new sounds-tired from the long trek up the mountain.

I remember when our old king died, I was seven. I didn’t understand then what happened, but I understand now and my heart feels cold.

Twenty-eight brides open their hands in the dim dusk light for all to see. Twenty-seven brides smile with relief as twenty-seven white rocks shine back at them. And I stare blankly at the cold black rock in my hand. I swallow. After the initial relief my sisters begIn to look around for the chosen one, slowly all eyes find me and they move out of the way so the priest can see me.

My heart is racing. I can hear it in my ears and I blink up at the priest blankly. I feel my sister’s hands gently taking my little girl off of my back. I turn and take one last look at my baby. My sister’s husband pries my little boys from my skirt and they start to cry.

I kneel down so they can see my face, “Hush,” I whisper, “Look at my face, remember my face…Take care of your sister, and tell John that I want him to protect you. All of you, especially your sister. Understand? Do you understand?”

They nod. I hug each one and I stand brushing off my white skirt. I let the pebble drop to the earth where it belongs and I lift my chin up. My body is trembling. I walk forward one foot at a time, it is an agony. I am afraid. I am afraid.

I look at John, he looks frightened, and confused. My sister and her husband have reached him. Draco and Acheron clutch John’s legs and he lifts them both. I think he has some idea of what is to happen, but it is not normal nor is it natural-not to him and not me. My boys bury their faces on his two shoulders, I know they will be alright. They will be honored, all three of my children will, what I do is an honor and my children will reap the reward.

I have reached my dead husband’s face. He looks no different now. I kneel by his coffin. The priest speaks, I do not listen. The corpse before me was once alive, only he looks no different, there was no light in his eyes to disappear so there has been no change in his sallow appearance. I believe my sister was right, he never loved me nor did I love him. I love John. And John loves me.

I turn my head to look once more at my children. Their faces are covered, I am thankful for that, I do not want them to see. I look at John and I see tears rolling down his face. ‘Love’, the only word from his native tongue that he taught me.

He whispers it, no one understands but me. And I whisper it back. He smiles and begins to weep. I stand and begin to weep too.

I am lifted by the priest and my young king onto my husband’s body. His arms are placed around me and we are chained together, in life and in eternity. I do not know if the gods are real, I believe there is some God. I do not know His name, but I believe that we are wrong. A real God would not ask us to bury ourselves.

I do not believe in our gods but I believe in some God, and I love Him and I am sure He loves me, even though I do not know His name. I breathe in and out trying to calm myself and find peace.

My husband and I are lowered into the grave in the cave. I look up at the ceiling and picture John’s face as they begin to sprinkle the earth upon me. My husband's cold hands clutch mine. And I feel sick as there is less and less air to breath. My body begins to shudder and convulse and I stuff my mouth with the fabric of my wedding dress. I will not let my children hear me scream. I hope John does not let them see.

I close my eyes and open my mouth, I am filled with dirt.

Goodbye.

Hi dad. How are you? Sorry I didn’t come sooner.

Well, goodbye.

I’ve never seen you altogether you know. I try to put all the bits together in my head so I can see all of you, but it doesn’t look quite right. To me, you’re just grey eyes and a beard. I’m still confused about how I should feel now that something bad’s happened to you.

Four nights ago I had a dream. Warm blood on my hands. A scream. The blade of an axe. I dream of blood. Blood on my hands and under my feet, blood in my mouth and pouring from my eyes. The room is filled with it. I feel the night crawling up all around, blotting out the moon. I feel blood running down the walls, rivers of it in the streets below. And I feel your teeth closing down on me. Sometimes I wake up screaming and Mick will reach his arm around me and fold close to his chest and I listen to his heart beating in my ears and he whispers over and over that it’s okay…and I don’t believe him. I can’t.

Once, when I was younger, I asked why you had to hit me so often and so much, ‘God wishes for you to obey me, May. I don’t want to hurt you. I get no pleasure from it. If you would only listen and perform your duties properly, I wouldn’t have to.’

I remember breaking glass and wood, rough shouting. A knife slicing through flesh, and hot blood on my hand. I-I saw her face white as a ghost, her hand reached out and shook and she whispered ‘Get your brother and go’.

And she screamed then, and you were over her. And-and I stood up and I tried to run, I tried to get Isaac and go but I was so small, and you were so big. And I hadn’t even gotten to the door when you caught up. I didn’t see what happened but I felt it….You said that I belong to you. I belong to no one.

I wished I was dead. I remember, I remember wishing that. I remember screaming, screaming until I was hoarse, screaming until blood ran and my scream mingled with yours. And I ran, and I couldn’t scream anymore because I needed my breath to run. Did it hurt to die? I think if you asked me a year ago I wouldn’t have cared…I wouldn’t have cared if it hurt, because it couldn’t hurt anymore then it already did.

My mother loved roses. She grew them like magic. No one’s roses were as lovely as hers. Rows of scarlet roses marching through the garden, rows of roses on the dress I wore the day we buried her. Holding hands with Isaac with our heads tipped toward the sky, catching as many snowflakes as we could, while you dug her grave. Isaac didn’t understand, not then…and he never saw her body, I told him she was just going on a little trip, I think he knows you killed her now…but we’ve never talked about it…it’s a terrible thing that doesn’t need to be spoken. I watched him laughing and all I could think about was ‘Get your brother and go’. I felt the task before us must be impossible, that we-two broken children that we were-could not overcome such a thing, that we were bound to you in an unbreakable way. I still think we are.

No one knows what happened that day exactly…except me. I’ve been told talking will help but I can never make it very far. I-I remember you laughed and stroked my braid with your white hands. ‘You’re mine May, mine to let live and mine to let die’ Your hand was on my braid, wrapping around it, pulling my head back so I could look into your eyes. ‘You’re a bitch in the heat, like all women are.’ I opened my mouth to scream, but a filthy hand covered it and another latched onto my breast, squeezing it so hard tears sprang to my eyes. I felt your tongue on my ear. Your hand moved from my breast to the hem of my skirt, pulling it to my waist, your fingers on my thighs brushing against my skin. It’s not natural! I remember-remember a man over me, barely more than a child, in the flickering light, pushing between my legs, and it hurt, and I screamed because it hurt, but you kept at it until I bled. You did not let go. ‘Just go away, You’re not here; you’re in a green field in a valley, and the sun is shining down, and here comes someone smiling at you, someone who loves you.’

You told me many times that it was all something I’d made up in my head and you didn’t want to hear about that nonsense. I wasn’t going to trouble myself about it anymore. I wasn’t going to think of how strange it was, because you told me what to think and I was sure you wouldn’t like me thinking on this. I remember you grabbed the front of my coat with both fists and yanked me up halfway, shaking me. ‘Are you expecting, May? Are you carrying my child and trying to keep it a secret? Don’t think you can hide it from me!’ ‘No’ ‘You’d better not be lying. You know what happens to girls who lie.’

I didn’t even know I was lying at the time…how could I? I didn’t have anyway to get a test, I had as much information as you did…I remember going to Isaac and saying ‘Isaac I think I’m pregnant with our father’s child.’ He just looked at me with an awful blank expression that made me fear for his life. And I-I put my hand on his cheek and I begged him not to leave me…because the light left his eyes for a moment, and I told him ‘we have to get out, we have to…not for us but for her.’

My one happiness was the man who you paid to deliver supplies to us twice a week, I had never mentioned any of the things that went on in our home to him, but we would always talk when he came up because you had me make him dinner. And he would compliment my cooking and once you asked me if the devil was tempting me through him and you said you should shoot us both but you didn’t. Something inside me told me that he would help if we asked, so we wrote him a note and I slipped it in his dinner. The next time Mick came up to make a delivery I said a very long prayer in my mind, the first prayer I had prayed in so many years…I still don’t know how I feel about God, but I know that my prayer was answered. Mick came back the very next day with the test and met us at my rock-the one mom used to take us to back when we were all happy. I peed on the stick, and there were two lines. We knew it was your-our baby.

Isaac came home to stall for me, I sat at that rock crying for such a long time. Mick sat with me. He told me it would be fine. I barely knew him then. I didn’t believe him at all. All I could think was that this damn life was not good enough for whatever little person was growing inside me. And I cried. I sat there thinking about all the possibilities-that I could cut her out of my life, and my body and your life…That I could try to hide it from you and somehow sneak her off the mountain without you knowing…I just knew I couldn’t give her the same life I was living, I couldn’t do that. But I wanted her. I wanted to keep her. I could already feel her soul dancing with mine. I still can.

And then Mick snapped me out of my daydreaming, and he told me that he wanted to take me on a date. I said I’d like that but you’d never let me. He said he didn’t care. He told me he’d bring his shotgun, he wanted to chase you off the mountain, he said he’d get a group of guys together and get rid of you…I said Isaac and I couldn’t manage on our own. He said we could if we had a farm hand, and he was happy to volunteer.

I cried for a long time and then he said to go home and act like everything was normal, and that he’d be along with a gang of guys to chase you out of my life forever. ‘okay’.

I went home, I tried to act normal but you saw right through me didn’t you? Isaac was scared, he didn’t know what to do. He saw that look in your eye but he knew I was pregnant. He didn’t want you to hurt me.

You looked at me with that same look you had when you killed mom. I was so scared, the scaredest I have ever been. ‘Are you lying to me May?’ ‘No! No! I wouldn’t do that!’ ‘You know what happens to girls who lie.’

You started taking your belt off…it was black with a silver buckle, just looking at that buckle made the hairs on my arm stand up and the skin on my back tingle with anticipation for the moment it would bite into my flesh. Isaac and I threw your belt off a cliff after you died, we’ll never see it again. ‘Take off your shirt May.’ I didn’t know what to do, I was so scared, I didn’t want anymore pain, I didn’t want you to hurt me, but I was more scared that if you did hurt me it would hurt my baby, but I didn’t know what to do so I just stood there and didn’t move.

‘What’s wrong May? Do you need me to take your shirt off for you?’ You took a step toward me and Isaac stood up, just a small boy compared to you. He stood in between us, ‘Don’t you dare touch her!’ You laughed at him, ‘Why boy? You think you can stop me?’

‘Stop Isaac! Stop!’ He lunged at you, and you took the buckle in your hand and hit him in the jaw. He fell back, so easily made still.

I was shaking. You looked at me and said, ‘Don’t make me ask you again.’ I remember slowly pulling off my dress so that I stood before you with just stockings and underwear. It was cold, I was cold…and all of my scars were on display in front of you. I began to shiver as you looked at me. I hugged my hands over my body to try to hide it from you but your hungry eyes wandered over me-your daughter-eating me up. I remember your tongue running along your bottom lip. Looking at Isaac who’d shut his eyes so tight when you beat me. You didn’t have the decency to keep me clothed. But Isaac loved me enough to keep his eyes shut. I felt my heart shaking then. I was so afraid. I was afraid. So afraid.

You brandished your belt and gestured to the table, ‘Lean over, Now!’

I was shaking and begging the God I didn’t believe in for a miracle. I bent over the table, I’m quite sure I was so starved you could see all the vertebrae in my curved spine. I took a deep breath and heard you grunt. And I screamed as the metal bit into my skin. There are so many scars on my back dad, ten or so for every time I lied. That was the greatest vice wasn’t it? Especially in a woman.

Sometimes I have nightmares about it, and in those dreams the pain feels so very real, so in someway I-I doubt you’ll ever stop punishing me-hurting me.

Isaac’s hands flew over his ears and he curled up in the corner, I remember when we were small…and you used to beat mother, and I remember curling up in that same corner and singing softly to Isaac while mother screamed. I remember singing in his ear and covering his eyes so he couldn’t see. I didn’t want him to see.

Lavender’s blue dilly dilly lavender’s green. When I am king dilly dilly you shall be queen. Who told you so dilly dilly who told you so? Twas my own heart dilly dilly that told me so.

You hit me again and I screamed louder then I’d ever screamed I think because I remember ‘She pregnant!’ Isaac couldn’t hear me scream again, so he told you. He told you my secret and I heard the belt drop to the floor.

And you stopped, it was the first time you ever stopped something. And I stood there shivering, feeling the warm blood drip down my back as I cried harder than I’d ever cried. You asked me then if I was pregnant, there was no use hiding it anymore, you knew. So I told you I was, and that it was your child. I looked up at you, you were standing beside me, looking at your naked daughter with blood and tears pouring down her skin. And your face turned white ‘No one can know about what we did. No one can know what we did!’

I looked at you and for a moment I thought you were going to stop. And then you grabbed my wrist, I shrieked as you pulled me to your bedroom. You tossed me onto the bed and turned to close the door. ‘What are you going to do to her?’ Isaac sounded so helpless, so frightened. Everything I felt. ‘I’m going to make sure no one ever knows what happened.’

My eyes widened and I saw Isaac’s eyes panic as you closed the door on him and locked it. You were going to cut the baby out of my chest…and there was nothing I could do to stop you. You were going to kill my child, maybe me. And there was every possibility that in one night you would kill both of your daughters.

I remember you grabbed a knife and I was fighting as you pulled my pants off me. And I was kicking and screaming as you pinned me down. And Isaac was banging on the door and you raised your knife to start and then the door opened and I heard a bang. And there was Mick standing in the doorway with a group of men and a gun, and your knife dropped and you fell. And I cried. And now I’m crying again.

It hasn’t even been nine months, I’ll know when it has. I’ve been told things get easier, but they get harder first. One thing was hard. I didn’t think I’d miss you at all, but you’re my father. I hate you with everything inside me. But something about being human makes us wish we loved those who bore us and created us. I don’t love you dad, but I wish I did. And more than that I wish you loved me.

I came to visit because I have news. It’s tradition for a man to ask for a girl’s hand in marriage from her father. Mick couldn’t do that so he asked Isaac. Isaac said yes and then Mick asked me. I said yes too. Dad, I’m getting married. You told me that was all I was good for. Well now you must be so proud of me. But more than that I’m proud of myself. I’m not marrying Mick because that’s all I can do. I’m marrying him because he has shown me how much more I am than some piece of meat. He has taught me that I can be smart, and I can be kind, and I can raise my daughter the way his mother raised him.

He has taught me to read and write. He has shown me that although he appreciates when I cook and clean for him, it isn’t why he loves me. And he has taught me that if that was the only reason he had love for me then it wouldn’t be love. He loves me and needs nothing from me…That is why I am marrying him. And I had to tell you that. Because I couldn’t live with thinking that you may have thought that you were right. Because you weren’t. You were so very wrong.

Mick has shown me that there is not one kind of man in the world. There are animals like you of course, I know that more than anyone. But men like Mick, and Isaac are more wonderful than I could ever have imagined.

You know what bothers me the most now? I walk around with this burden on my shoulders, people judging me for keeping my baby. My baby is no less than anyone else’s baby just because I didn’t conceive her on purpose. My child will not be any less human and I despise the way people look at me when I say I’m keeping her.

I don’t understand why they care so much. You should have seen the look on my new mother in law’s face when she found out. She was not happy. I don’t know why it’s any of her business, it isn’t, but she thinks it is. I don’t understand why she believes I am not strong enough to have this child.

I am.

You did a lot of horrible things to me, but the one thing you did give me is strength. I am so strong. Stronger than her, and stronger than you.

When I tell them how it happened-how I got pregnant they-they look at me as if I’m carrying a monster in my belly. I don’t understand. What you did isn’t her fault. They always ask, ‘Are you keeping her?’ And when I say yes they look at me like I’m crazy.

I’m not crazy. I don’t think I am. Just because being pregnant right now isn’t ideal doesn’t mean I’ll regret having a child. And maybe this child will be exactly what I need. Maybe she will be the beauty in the world that I’ve been missing. Maybe.

I wish I could be a virgin on my wedding night. Instead I will be a mother. And Mick will be her father, not you, never you. There is a piece of me that you stole when you did what you did. Mick taught me the word for it, a word you never bothered teaching us-rape. You raped me.

Do you know what rape is dad? Rape is the single worst act a man can commit against a woman. And you did that to your daughter. Rape is an unnatural thing. But to do it to your own child. I-I can’t. I can’t-I-

I thought I’d cried out the past already, but here it is again, rising up in my chest, making it hurt. All the years of walking, of being pushed and pulled. All the nights I’d woken in terror from a nightmare that would not leave me, all the nights no one was there to soothe or comfort away that fear. Your hand pushing between my legs.

All these things have been stopped up inside me. The world is abruptly sharp and clear, too clear, and too alive. It is terrible beyond words. Could this be a true thing? Could the world really be this terrible? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does, and I don’t think I’ll ever figure it out…most people don’t.

I’m still afraid of you. Yes, I am, I might always be. But you’ll never meet her. June, our daughter’s name is June.

Open your eyes.

What do you see?

A mouth and a nose

Smiling down on me

You look sort of old

But you look like me

Some thoughtful, ancient

Miserable me.

Faultless

Fantasy

15-21

Currently 47,419 and climbing

Nina Jackson

High fantasy has been forgotten...It's time for it to come back.

A little girl loses her innocence and splits her heart in two for her love. And so she loses the ability to feel empathy...this is the story of why we must remember empathy.

Fairytale combinations. Red goes from little girl who works at the palace to Queen of the land when her fairygodmother involves her in her personal vendetta towards revenge. Through the story teenagers will be exposed in a thoughtful way to topics such as stockholm syndrome, addiction and abuse.

Teen and young adult

The silence is pressing, there is no noise, no light. All there is is Hansel's hoarse sobs long into the night. I'm not sure if it's been an hour or one single second...I can't tell but-

"Red” I hear a pained whisper and open my eyes.

Hansel still holds his sister's corpse in his arms, his face is twisted with agony-the most wholly consuming agony I've ever seen. As if I've ripped his heart right out of his chest. My eyes rest on Gretel's face, her expression is so peaceful, it makes me wish I had killed me instead...Then I could feel quiet peace like her. Then I see her eyes and my breathing quickens, I want to scream again but one look at Hansel's tear streaked cheeks and I know that it is not the time to panic.

"Red," We lock eyes, but his eyes are dull, as if he's dead too, "Please, please, I don't care why you did this; but please please kill me."

My heart sinks into my feet. How could I purposefully kill someone I now know is innocent? If he didn't kill Jack then he is the Hansel I've always loved, how could I end it for him. I try to speak but I cannot, so I wordlessly shake my head.

"Please," He whimpers, "Please, I can't live without her; she's all I have. I want so badly to die Red. Please, I can't bear this pain. It's like my heart is broken in a million pieces and I know deep down it cannot be repaired, it can only die."

"No, no, please;" I whisper pleading with him, I've shed enough blood.

Hansel suddenly rushes me. He seizes me by the hair and pulls me to my feet. His eyes are wide and his hands are covered in Gretel's blood, his face is dirty and red from wiping away his tears through the night-he looks insane.

"Why did you do it?!" He yells at me shaking me hard, "Why?" He throws me hard against the stone floor; "I hate you! I hate you!"

I curl up on the ground and hide my face, my whole body aches from hitting the stone and my scalp is on fire. Suddenly his demeanor changes and he falls to his knees sobbing hysterically before me. He crawls to kneel before me and places his hands on my cheeks.

"Look at me, look at me." He whispers and I open my eyes, he holds my face in his strong hands so I cannot look away. "Please, please kill me," He sobs, "Please I cannot live now, please."

He lets go and falls face down on the floor shaking with sobs. I hear him whimper for quite some time "Please, please Red. I want to die. Please. Please help me. Please, kill me. Please."

I don't know how long he cries, I don't know how I manage to live, his sobs still ring in my ears. But every cry is a stab through my heart, until bit by bit I lose myself completely.

"Please," I whisper, "Stop crying, I'll kill you." My voice sounds dry and hoarse, it hurts to speak because my throat is so parched.

I struggle to my feet, he scrambles on his hands and knees, slipping in the shallow pools of his sister's blood. His hands find the knife that rests firmly in Gretel's breast, he grips the handle and pulls hard. With a deafening squelching noise the blade comes free, I draw breath as I watch the corpse shake ever so slightly and fresh blood runs onto the floor around her.

He scurries to me and takes my hand. He curls my fingers around the cold metal handle and my dead eyes stare at the red blade dripping slowly onto the ground. He takes a step back and stands in front of me waiting.

"Please," He whispers, "please."

I take a deep breath and stare into his deep brown eyes. I want to scream at myself to stop, I want to undo everything. I want to tear my hair out and beat my breast, I want to die, I don't want him to.

I raise my arm high above my head and a relief floods his features. A tear rolls down my cheek. He smiles softly and his eyes move upward, waiting to see his father, his mother and his sister again. He always yearned for death, I know that, but something in me cannot kill him; maybe it's good, maybe it's selfish. Either way my arm goes limp.

"I-I cannot kill you." I say weakly.

"Then I'll help you," He says, and before I can say anything he grabs my hand and together we stab the knife into his heart.

For the second time in a day I hear the horrid sound of flesh tearing and ribs breaking. Hot and sticky blood pours onto my hand and my mouth hangs open. I stare at the wound, he will die, and I will be alone.

I look up at him, into his eyes, he looks peaceful. His hand lifts to my cheek, it's warm and covered in sick blood. His finger brushes softly across my chin and he mouths the words, "I loved you," before he falls to the ground with a sickening thud next to his sister.

I stand for a moment without moving, and then I scream, I scream so loud I believe I've gone deaf. And then I drop to my knees and scream again, I scream at myself, I scream at my mother, I scream at my fairy, I scream at Hansel, at Gretel, at Jack, at my grandmother, I scream until that's all there is-one long scream.