In a time so long ago There lived a girl By the name of Octavia
She was shy and mute Not so much mute, As just did not like to speak
Her parents were worried She did well in school But
Her social skills
p l u m m e t e d
She combed her long black hair at night Quiet as a mouse In the small, dark little house She rested
Her parents had enough She could not function in society They locked her up And told her to stay
She did not mind After all, there were books And a comb for her long black hair To comb at night
Every day, she did just that
The town she lived in f orgot a bou t h e r
Bit by bit She became unnerved
"Octavia, Octavia," She heard the voices say "Why don't you come out and play?"
She shook her head, and read her book.
The voices stopped, then returned the next day. Nothing else could be heard
Then, footsteps
Could someone be there for her?
No
They weren't
Eventually, the voices grew forms
Shadows of children, smiling and laughing Octavia was wary and bitter She did not like them She combed her hair
One of them took the comb and ran Octavia cried Her hair would no longer be beautiful Her beauty would
p l u m m e t
She paced throughout the room, reading her books They became boring to her Reading the same things, over and over again Her bitterness grew stronger
She saw an old book, torn from time And tears formed in her eyes Weeping, she ripped a page out
And then another
And another
and another
another
more, more
m o re
All her books were gone Nothing to do Except listen to the voices She knew that they were messing with her She did not know how to stop them They held her hand tight And told her, "Play, play, don't be scared"
And then, she stopped being scared
Her parents, regret in their hearts Unlocked the door, and found nothing Except a girl with unkempt hair And a trail of ripped pages
She looked at them, and a smirk grew across her face
"Don't you see? I play with the voices, and the voices play with me."