When I closed my eyes, she was there.

Long blonde hair, down to her hips, in her middle school uniform.

It was pulled back into a half-hearted ponytail.

She didn’t look up at me, never met my eyes. 

But if I were to look into them I know what I would see.

I would see the emptiness that festered around her irises. 

She grasped a notebook with white-knuckled hands.

I knew what was in there, her soul.

Then, a boy appeared next to her, malice in his eyes.

He had a crooked smile as he took the notebook from the girl.

I watched as he flipped through it

And ripped out every page. 

The girl just stood there, looking away from him, from me,

I don’t know where her eyes were,

I just know they were dead.