bustersoldier

God told me to hold her. He didn't say; "closer than most" or "handle with care" After all, it is my profession to protect. But when I saw her, saw those bright blue eyes... ..and soft blond curls; I did it like He had said so anyway. They named her soul and called it love. But she was different, and they didn't like it. When she was five, her 'mama' tore that pretty blonde hair out by the roots and there was nothing I could do. Because she told me not to. At ten, her 'daddy' kicked her down the stairs and out onto the veranda. Because she was holding hands with a boy. I caught her as best I could... ...but I could not catch her shatter