The Broken Child [part 1]
The young child remained unconcious against the wall, her arms ragged and worn, her wrists tied the the wall with cold chains.
The girl lifted up her head opening a single eye, for the other was caked closed with blood. And standing by the door was a man a a woman, the man holding the woman by the hips almost lovingly; almost.
The woman slowly looked towards the mans face, a look of fear on her face. After a slight nod from the male she vetured further into the room until she was within arms reach of the child; the young girl.
" Oh Marcie," the woman proclaimed, lifting her arms to hug the child." I missed you so-
"SILENCE! The child still holds the devil within her. It is best not to proclaim love and care to her, it is pointless!" interrupted the man. "She still needs to repent. We are only here to check the child is still alive. For we would not want the lord to think we have sinned by letting it die"
"I understand" And with that the woman returned to the sid
Tom Boy CinderellaFancy clothes, tiara like a queen
Why can't I come in my jeans?
Manicured nails, skin like a dove
Why can't I wear my baseball glove?
Jewellery from head to toe
Even though I don't wanna go
Don't need my hair curled or any more make-up
So much 'girlishness' I think I might just throw up
Do I really have to go to the ball
And no lets NOT head to the mall
'Cause all this princess stuff is making me wince
And I certainly not marrying any prince
'Cause all I wanna do is watch wrestling on TV
So stop trying to make a Cinderella out of me! ! !