kimsalad

Once there was a little girl who felt that she did not belong. She did not like to wear her Sunday dress to the church, and instead she often wore her father's boots and a bicycle helmet. Her fellow Jesus enthusiasts were never comfortable with this.

She thought that dolls were stupid. She played with action figures just like all of the little boys on her block. All day she would sit on the porch and play with her action figures. She liked to take a match and melt their crotches. She loved to sing as the soldier's crotches were burned away.

Her parents didn't care though. She felt neglected by them. Why, she couldn't remember the last time they had asked her how she was feeling. She wanted to punish them for ignoring her, but even then they would not care. She had killed them years ago, and dead things cannot care.

She would use her father's decomposing body as a battlefield for her action figures to fight on. His chest collapsed that December, and the little girl used his ribcage as a space for the Bad Guys' secret hideout. It was a joyous Christmas that year!

She lived such a beautifully happy life, but when she was twenty-seven she had a knock on her door. The government had finally come to her house to take all of her toys away forever. She was a very sad little girl after that, and never smiled again -- save for when she was playing with the cat, Mr. Squishy Fantastica.

She died young