We were at the beach.
Just another day.
Just the two of us.
Along comes a little girl,
just walking by herself.
She reached out for help
but no one else heard her.
I, on the other hand, saw.
Her arms a bloodied mess.
Legs cut and lashed at.
Face, hands, and neck all
scarred and bruised.

This little girl.
Never again would she trust.
Never again would she laugh.
This innocent soul.
Never again would she smile.
Never again would she care.
This little girl would be taken in.
by the very people who,
one day, became her killers.

Just the two of us.
The only ones that saw,
this little girl, her need.
We would be the ones,
those who took her in.
we would be the ones,
the only ones at that,
to earn her trust along with a smile.
We would be the ones,
the people that had taken
her into our home.
We would be her killers.
Her poor innocent soul.