I never thought I would die so young, so fragile, so young, so fragile. 
I thought I'd pass with flowers sprouting out of my finger tips from kisses.

The back of the car, driving down main street, blowing kisses to every person on the sidewalk. 
Father driving in the front seat, whistling tunes through his gap teeth, full lips and curly mustache that tickled his nose.
He taps, and taps, and taps, and taps. 
Moving his finger up and down and up and down and tapping more.

We park, block or so away. Walk to his store. The convenience store. With his smile broadcasting that he knows today is going to be a good day -and it will be- he says to himself.
(Oh Father, for I have sinned) 

Boxes line walls in the back, I'm helping him push stock. Pushing boxes upon boxes onto empty shelves - it's all new. Shiny, brand new florescent and white. 

There's walking and talking and more talking. Soon enough the walking stops, but there's more talking then no talking at all.
Silence is deafening, to those who are listening. But I'm pushing, pushing, pushing these boxes. 
The slit caught me off guard, choked me and turned my brain inside out pulsing. 

I just wanted to unpack, to settle, to start but my mind is racing and I'm bleeding and everything is going black. 

I never heard my death, only saw white, black and speckles of indigo, magenta, turquoise spitting at me.

I limp onto the floor, spreading and sprawling and grasping and kicking because instinct and father tells me this is what you do if someone attacks you - you get away. 

But I can't get away because he grips my scarf, pulls it off of me and I feel naked.

I feel naked like the first time you realize you're too old to be bathing with your siblings anymore, naked when you lose your virginity and you know he isn't the one, naked like your skin has been peeled back and there's only fleshy pink smiling at you. 

He chokes me with it but I'm still spreading sprawling grasping kicking but nothing is leading to anything.

I want to be shrunk into a pea, roll away, and rot under the shelves. 
But that's not an option. I'm bleeding to death. 

The End

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