Self-Penned

The relentless wind whipped her skirt around her bony knees, the bitter cold biting into her bones. Almost oblivious, she tottered over the sharp rocks into the sand. Clutching a handful of green M&Ms candies in one fist, her eyes seeking for a silhoutte in the distance. She saw none. She craned her neck, as best as she could, ignoring the stings the sand made in her eyes, searching, seeking, for him, his promised presence.

She was still alone on the lonely stretch of beach.

The waves crashed against the shore, the water crashing against the rocky cliffs. Crashing and breaking, just like the hope in her heart.

He said he would be here. He promised her a better future when he come for her. He vowed to bring her to England, where he spoke of sunshine, lemonade stores and a proper home with a pink room for herself. He told her about the friends she will have, the dresses she will look so pretty in, the dolls that will accompany her through her nightmares.

He lied.

The M&Ms melted in her clenched fist. She flung the candies away, into the roaring waves. She wiped away the tears on her face, not realising the green smears she's leaving on her cheeks. Or not caring.

She turned and walked away slowly. The broken spirit of a little girl, the sparkle gone from her eyes, the bounce lost in her steps. A mess of green smears and salty tears, the torn tunic hanging loosely on her thin frame.

Her isolation almost palphable.