i walk dwn stairs in my jammies, makign myself a hotpocket, yea know the best snack to make at 10:30 at night.. and there she is again. This cutest little girl stands there quiet as a mouse with a twisted face, her cheeks are dirty from running around outside and red bags under her eyes form crying.. So i tunr around to face away from her, hot pocket in one hand and holdign up jeans with the other. Seeing these things on a dayly basis dont bother me much but this little girl has a feeling of childlike frustration. the younger ones are usually the most dangerous.. with not having the idea of what is wrong and right they do what they want.. I stay as calm as possible as she walks behind me, reaching at the back of my shirt. Light after light i turn them off and she grows quicker behind me. I look behind to see where she has gone and her face has changed. There is a gash in her right cheek to expose her side teeth. So with a gulp i continue up the stairs and turn on the lights at the top. She is there in front of me with her flesh back on her face till i enter my room. with the weak walls i have put up she stands out side for hour snow. She's there even as i type.. she stands begging for something. Either help to leave or a cute for her injury. Hopfully ill find what she needs before to long because not being able to sleep is getting kinda old..

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