"There is a ghost ship.....
out at sea.....
where my lover is.....
down the deep.......
The girl hung on the last word, as if she were a broken record. She sang in wailing despair. Her face was red raw from crying, her golden hair matted and broken.
She was sitting in the middle of the living room, but all the furniture she had pushed aside. She was all alone.
Then, as if God had heard her cry, something icy and sharp plunged between her ribs, like a bird diving into water to catch a fish. She smiled, grateful. She breathed in, but no air came into her lungs. Just a gurgling liquid. Her hands dropped down from holding the wooden handle, and fell to her lap. She started crying again.
"I'll be there soon, Adrien, my only love."
A old man backed in through the doorway, carrying a tray in both hands. His head turned round to look, and he promptly dropped the tray to the floor with a smash.
"Sarah-Allen! What have you done?!" He cried, tears now springing from his own eyes. He rushed over, but it was already too late. She was almost dead. The carpet was stained with blood, just as she'd planned. She wasn't going to let anyone forget this. He picked up her body and cradled her.
Then, just as suddenly as it had began, it ended. Her arms slumped, and her eyes rolled.
Such a sad thing, death. And why someone should wish to end their life so early is unthinkable. Little Sarah-Allen was only six years old at the time, almost seven. Her mother, Lorna Freeman, had left her father, being the only one to take care of her. Her grandfather, Edward Solsbury, had been there also, and loved her as if she were a daughter to him. Her father, however, had been missing for quite some time. People knew he did 'dodgy dealings' with the black market - Maybe he had been kidnapped? Or killed?No-one knew.
All that was known, was that her father was called Adrien Freeman.