Ink By Oxy

No one knew of Leah.

She was that child, kept hidden and chained
inside the windowless basement
of the mansion across the lake –
the secret that her family would kill to keep;
the byproduct of an incestuous coupling
of a deviant, abusive father
and of a mad, yet dangerously beautiful daughter.

“Child of the devil!” her mother used to call her,
as she slapped her senseless, for the sin of existence.
Often times, she stroke her unruly curls,
and kept whispering vile words in her ears.

Leah grew up knowing nothing but the rants
filled with hatred, uttered by a mind gone insane.
And so she believed…

She’s the child of the devil!

She looked at the mirror and all she could see
was an image of a woman that was not her own.
Those pair of green eyes with flecks of brown,
hooded by lashes so thick
that it hids the fury of the soul within.

Only she knows, only she feels, only she sees,
the truth swimming under the sea of despair.
And for what? For whom?

It’s only a matter of time now,
before everything floats back into the surface.
By then, it would be too late to be saved.
A smirk formed in her cherry painted lips before mumbling,

“Fuckers!”

ii.

The morning after that fateful halloween
some ten years ago have all been forgotten,
buried as a cold case and unsolved.

Funny how this town could easily set aside
the memory of that horrific day,
of Sarah and her headless body
floating in crimson waters
on the big fountain at the park.

How could they be smiling
as they dressed up the children
to play trick or treat, knocking on doors,
expecting candies in turn?

Should I play threat and trick with them
and make them remember?

“Hello Chloe, are you alone? Come in…
I prepared treats specially for you.”
Oh, yes…

They will remember!

iii.

At first they thought that it’s a prop,
remnant of kids’ trash from last nights’ prank.
Until the cleaning crew arrived and touched the headless ‘doll’,
and then they knew that it was not and it all began…

Screams of terror rung from a mother’s lungs,
There’s no doubt in her heart who could it be.
Even without the blond curls, who else but her Chloe?

That Tinkerbelle costume and pink lacy shoes
and that little hand wearing a ring with red shiny heart…
taunting as the arm attached drips diluted blood
when it dangles lifeless on the edge of the fountain in the park…

“It’s a ghost! The ghost of Sarah!”
someone said.
And the following silence proves…

That now, now they remember!

iv.

The fools!

A decade had past, yet it seems they never learn;
commiting the same mistake as they did with Sarah –
asking the wrong questions,
suspecting the wrong person,
Assuming and jumping to conclusions.

…who done it? …where hid it? Fools!

Will Chloe suffer the same injustice?

Tears of blood filled with rage runs down her cheeks, as she…
picked up the frames imprisoning
the smiling image of two little blond girls.
For they don’t belong in that memorial beside the fountain,
surrounded by melting candles and flowers…

“Who, whose dead body was found defiled,
and headless on the fountain in the park?”
Because she knew for certain that it wasn’t Chloe,
nor was it Sarah ten years ago..

Who would have remembered?
The child that no one knew, born and died
in darkness, not knowing the light of day.

Even in her death, she was kept hidden,
mourned by another mother, while her own
torture another in her place;
her grave
bearing another’s name,
Sarah!

And here she is, unknown.
Alive but, remembered as the headless ghost.

She’ll wait another year
till another chance comes for her to reclaim
her self.

She have nothing else but time.
Next Halloween, she hope Chloe
would be awarded due recognition.

“Hello Chloe, child of the devil!”