Shirts and jeans litter the asphalt, the empty fabric limbs askew as if they're attempting to escape. Blood smears Sarah's lips as she struggles against the chest of a dirty looking man with a beard. Terror. Terror is the only word my mind can seize on and it forgets what it means. I forget how to think - to move.
Just before the men closed the tail gate on the float, she strained her head to see me and nodded her head so hard her blonde mane flew around her face__he looked like she was standing in a cloud of icing sugar. She uttered such a quiet neigh, it seemed only I heard it. She stared at me, and closed her eyes. Then she was gone.
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Just before the men closed the tail gate on the float, she strained her head to see me and nodded her head so hard her blonde mane flew around her face__he looked like she was standing in a cloud of icing sugar. She uttered such a quiet neigh, it seemed only I heard it. She stared at me, and closed her eyes. Then she was gone.
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I was crying for the little girl I had been, who had withstood terrifying nightmares of death and blood and war and maiming. And when I had tried to share those horrors, the shock on my friends' faces had told me I was not normal, and I should keep my dreams to myself.
and I told myself -- as I've told myself before -- that the body shuts down then the pain gets too bad, that consciousness is temporary, that this will pass. But just like always, I didn't slip away. I was left on the shore with the waves washing over me, unable to drown.
The higher consciousness are the ones who get the most pain.
It__ that short-lived happiness, which empowers us to bear; long-lasting pain in living.
No child should ever be too sad to play.