'Ayah, come home'.
'Ayah, come home!'
'Ayah, my sister... come home?'
But Ayah never came home.
They told us at 11:07 pm,
on the night of 20th May
2006. Our little girl was dead.
Only 7 years old.
Hit by a drunk driver. Then her
body taken and molested by
that same driver. An old man.
Name of Roger.
I see her face now, so clearly.
Brown eyes. Black hair. High
cheek bones. Her twin brother
looked almost exactly alike.
She was gone. Murdered by
some raping, drunk old man
who couldn't even remember
what he had done, and cried
like a baby when he found out.
They found her body, and told
us she most likely survived the
car, but the old man had abused
her so harshly, something inside
her ruptured, and she bled to
death underneath him.
11:07 PM
20th May
2006
Her mother left a few days after
that. We never saw her again.
Still, I hear Ayah's voice in my head.
'Daddy? Ice cream?'
'Daddy? One more push?'
'Daddy? Why are you crying?'
'Daddy? Do you miss me?'
'Daddy? Why me?'
I panic at times. Go to her room
to see her, then remember just
as I open the door.
She is gone. Her brother has never
been the same.
©spilvenr
S