Broken and crumbled leaves fall from above in a small willow, tiny bugs and insects riding over the trees crumbly bark. The little girl stands there, her eyes chiseled with guilt, “Mother,” She barely whispers, heartfelt letters filling every open space in the meaning, “I didn’t know.”
The girl’s natured beautiful blue eyes wonder across the roots which dig into the wet, cold ground in the graveyard. Birds speak a whole different language in the tree, looking down at her with dreadful eyes, and nasty expressions. The small girl’s bony, fragile hands snake up the trees bark once more for the third time, her eyes closing as she rests her forehead against the dirty-stick-like-surface. Teardrops of rain fall from the sky, drenching her pure black hair and soggy sandals even more, “I’m sorry.”
The five year old lets go, holding her teddy bear tight as she plops down in the mud. She picks at the green blades of grass, the raindrops running down her soft-pale skin.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
