Irrelevant

Staring outside her window she notices one lone boy playing on the green grasses.

"It looks fun," she tells herself. Knowing she can't go out to play she taps on the window trying to get his attention away from his toy. Tapping softly but consistently she constantly looks behind her shoulder afraid she'd be caught. The boy much to caught up in his world could not hear her soft knocks.

She sighs in frustration all the while talking to her reflection in the glass. She chatters in hushed tones all the while trying to decide the boys name. Finally, she names him Tommy.

"Tommy is a good name, Mummy laughes with big Tommy, but she smiles at Robert and hugs all the big boys and they hug her back," pondering her mothers strange habits with men, she knocks the window louder this time, bolder.

Little boy Tommy too engrossed with his trucks could not be bothered with the little girl by the window. Irrelevant to him, she has no truck and not outside, how much fun can a little girl be?
Little boy Tommy just plays and plays.

Once more a loud knocking can be heard but it stops as abruptly as it came. The little girl jumped away from the window and grabbed her favourite toy, 'Mr. Bee' a fuzzy teddy bear worn out from years of being dragged everywhere.

"Girl!! What is that awful noise you are making? Mummy is busy, shhhhh!!!!" in barges her mum clothes dishevelled with too much make up on and smeared lip stick with a glass of martini in her hand. The girl just bows her head and nods rapidly fearing for the men that might come to touch her too. It just hurt too much to bear.

She quietly sits by her bed, rubbing her face against the teddy's face, thinking only this toy knows how she feels. How she wants to run away to some green field and have a dog with many friends and a mother who'd bake cookies till no end.

Her throat felt ticklish and she braces herself, each cough she sputters she smothers with her bony hand. Sticky warm red liquid fills her palm. Afraid to move she sits there cupping her mouth coughing into her palm. Drops of blood drips onto her pretty frock. Wide eyed she starred out the window her little heart trying to reach out to god. There is so much blood! She's coughed before, with blood no less but it has never been so much.
'Oh God Don't let Mummy know she mught hit me some more.'

Her head spins and the world feels tilted, she tried to stand but falls against the window. She sees little Tommy still zooming his little trucks about. Smilling she touches the window with a bloody palm. Feeling oddly calm she leans her head on her window and closes her eyes as exhaustion washes over her.

Little Tommy looks up and sees the little girl leaning on the window, her palms covered in red watercolors. Shaking his head he turns back to his game of construction trucks. Silly girl staining her window, she is irrelevant to his little world.

The little girl died that evening. No one noticed until the very next day. Don't be sad, she may have died alone but she wasn't scared.

She was Just irrelevant.
Thats what she is, irrelevant.