She was playing when he sneaked out the kitchen door. If not for the slight wind that ruffled her hair beckoning her beyond, she would have been content dressing her Barbie. It was her favorite doll – it was the first gift her Mom had given her.
But the kitchen door beckoned.
And Barbie looked rather pale and pallid – the afternoon sun could do nothing to infuse even a tinge of color into her cheeks. She let go of Barbie, even though it was the only toy she had managed to clutch in her hand on the hurried ride to the cabin in the woods. Barbie lay there, left discarded. She peeked forth from the kitchen door.
Tip toes took her forward, expectations of another surprise from Mom bubbling within her veins. Anticipation, hidden mirth at catching her Mom off-guard enthused her as she hid her quiet giggles and followed him deeper into the woods.
There he was, digging. She couldn’t make out much else as the clouds hid the sun. But she did see her Mom. On the floor, covered in red and brown and ginger hues – lay her Mom. While her heart choked, and the blood pounded and whistled in her ears, he was heaving her Mom’s form into the silent dirty grave.
She cried out.
Her Dad looked up. Innocence was lost.
