La Ragazza Morta (The Dead Girl)
I told her that I would protect her.
Spun lovely tales of unconditional love, understanding and security.
But I only lead her to places that looked safe.
I bring her to people who wear friendly masks and drown their sorrows with dangerous secrets. My journey seems to be a cursed one, and so she suffers. No one else who will ever want her. She has no savior, no mother.
She is alone.
She has tried so hard to please us. She has fought so long to become someone worth caring for. She has endured much, and has been damaged beyond repair. The stains never come out of her clothing. Her breath is shallow. The bleeding never stops.
She faintly smiles as she finally fades out of the labyrinth of distortion. I bitterly weep, as I’ve failed her. Still, I am relieved. Her suffering has ended.
And now she is free.