I cried last night. For a little girl. A little girl that I murdered. You know the one with the red hat on her head, red lipstick on her lips and a red rose in her hand, waiting at the airport. The one that couldn't think of life without love. I killed her. Because she was so young and naive. There were a lot, that could've hurt her and I couldn't be the one who sit and watch, her being tortured. So I killed her for the best. Best of her and best of me. But still sometimes in the middle of the night, when I'm sleepless. I can see her, gazing at me from beneath of her red brim hat, with her innocent eyes. And it hurts to look at her, knowing that she is not with me any more.
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