A Hospital For Souls

“Will I always feel this way?”

He moved closer, and she didn’t know whether to feel anxious or relieved.

“You will if you stay. But you don’t have to stay here; you don’t have to be sad anymore.”

Without another word he placed the razor in her hand, the chill of metal all too familiar.

“I don’t want to be sad anymore.”

It’s summer. I must be in about first grade because I am sitting on the driveway of the old house on Park Street. The swingset my Dad built is just as I remembered it- two swings and a bright yellow slide. When I was a little girl I’d climb to the top and pretend I was a princess locked away by an evil witch. My mother would yell out to me to change into different clothes, but I insisted on wearing a dress and my finest jewlery. (Which I took out of the game Pretty, Pretty, Princess) I looked down and found, to my surprise, the bracelets on my wrists; purple and blue and pink just like my favorite dress. I walked toward the wooden playset, slowly tracing my fingers over the intials I had carved in the side. Beside them, a pair of letters unfamiliar to me.

-an excerpt from a book I’ll never finish


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