Non-Fiction Fiction: Fatima

Fatima.
She stayed away from us,
Sitting on the cold dirt while the flies swirled around her.
She would let no one near her.
Even if you wore the brightest smile,
Fatima will stay away.

She touched the sands because they had always been there to comfort her. When she fell, they were there to scrape her flesh open so that she could bleed and remember that she was alive.
Even if the home decided to send her away, the sand will always be there for her.
Rough little stones under the flesh of her feet,
Always reminding her that she was alive.

The little thing refuses to eat a thing, many have been the people that betrayed her while offering her a meal.
Her eyes bore no hope,
Perhaps because the world had given her none.
If you think death is the worst fate of mankind,
You should have seen Fatima.
No smile or frowns,
Just a drifting soul hoping it’ll end soon.
She can’t tell her story,
So i write it for her.

Although I am safe now,
The ghosts still haunt and hunt me,
Knives cutting, hands rubbing and piercing inside of me.
Blood and more blood,
All in the secrets of a dark room.
In the dark of the night,
Left alone,
The rains beat me down too
And the sands are my friend,
They should be with me when I die.
But i wake up in the daylight,
In this safe house.
I want to thank them for saving me,
But all I see are these ghosts, piercing me… Blood, blood and more blood…
So i go back to touch the sand,
Because they will always be with me,
Even when I’m dead.

If you think that death is the worst fate of mankind,
You should have seen Fatima.

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