Gradually, the right turn to my flat was a step away. I paused. I spotted a crow once I made the turn. Bad luck... All of a sudden, I felt a powerful jab. Almost like a heart attack. I couldn’t recognise what it was. Somehow, I was able to carry on walking. A dove flew in front of me, carrying a bucket of water. It splashed it on me where I felt the impact. The viscosity of the liquid didn’t seem like water. Not minding it, I saw the dove placing a lily on my shoes. Without me seeing it, the dove disappeared.
I laid, in what seems to be, my own pool of blood. I realised that the liquid I thought was to be water was none other than my blood. I then found out that I had been stabbed. My prayer was heard.
“Good thing no one really lives in these flats.”
“Make sure that she is dead.” He stabbed her twice.
“She is definitely dead.”
“Look, a lily.” He bent down to pick it up. He walks over to her and stuffs the flower in her mouth. This action was what named this unsolved case ″The Lily Girl’s Death″. Her body was left to rot and no one mourned her death. She was one of the other billions of kids murdered and left out on the streets where people give no care.
“When the Fox hears the Rabbit scream he comes a-runnin', but not to help.”
― Thomas Harris, The Silence of the Lambs