The innocent child was there once again, in the shivering rain; except this time I knew, she was not innocent. I saw her three weeks ago standing right where she stood at this very moment. Of course, she'd never show her face to me, unless I came up to her. Who would want to go up to a demon child? But she knew anyone would go up to an innocent girl, stranded, alone. That's how the twisted man saw her as, at least. I sat there ideally by in my vehicle when the scrawny wrinkled man slid out of the driver's seat, out the door towards the girl. He came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. I'm guessing he asked her if she knew where her parents were; but the child stayed frozen. The man clearly wasn't satisfied and grabbed her. Little did the man know, that soon he'd be lying on the muddy grass, cold and decaying with a red rose in his mouth. The girl was out of site. That is not the only thing I remember though; her face. Around her face there were only small bits and pieces of skin left over. My guess is the rest of her skin was ripped off or deteriorated. Her eyes had a green tint and were rolled back into her skull. Every time I closed my eyes I would see her. See her in my dreams, to the point where through my days I would grow this feeling that she was near. I spoke with my close friend who was an investigator, he promised he'd give any information I needed, but asked a thousand times if I took any "meds." I searched through newspapers, magazines, police reports, anything I could to know why she was there. Until I came across a report a young woman made to an officer in 1920. Her name I recall was Rose Harper. Rose was a widow after the incident of her husband and step daughter getting intoxicated with acid. She was accused for homicide but was proven innocent. On the night of her death she was found strangled with a white rose soaked in her own blood hanging from her mouth. She had severe wounds tracing over her entire body. Evidently the neighbors explained that they did not here anything coming from Ms. Harper's home. The report was made promptly at 8:31 that night, and was found dead at 8:50. Many of you ask yourselves, "If none of her neighbors heard any screaming or shouting, what was keeping her silent for so long?" Forgive me, but I forgot to mention the most peculiar thing that happened when the old man was attacked. When this, girl, kills, she takes away your ability to scream. You shout, you scream for help, but nothing comes out. Dare to move out of her reach, she'll suck your sanity from your soul. -The Silent Game-
Author Notes: Written, Created, and Edited by Danielle Swank.