Uploaded Fairy [ Editing ]
When the neighbor heard screams, the neighbors got involved. Law enforcement did not particularly dealing with cases dealing with child abuse, but had particular disdain of the old majority that ruled this country, even if perhaps the evidence suggested that Betty's real mother was French.
Betty had a quick trail, some suggested judicial error.
She was taken to the courtyard, held in confinement for a few days. And then taken out for her execution. She walked up the scaffold stairs in a nervous wreck, and almost couldn't make it to the center. They closed the loop on the guillotine gun around her small frail neck, and then counted down.
The trigger was pulled, the angled blade flew through her neck. Her head fell down onto the scaffold floor below. Because there was no board to hold her upright, the execution largely being rushed to avoid detection by children's rights activists from human rights international being involved, they wanted the case to be as over quickly as they could possibly make it.
The executioner held up her head for all to see.
And then quickly prepared funeral arrangements. I only know so much, because I could have been an apprentice for said events, but had luckily gotten sick from the idea of killing a girl that could have been a friend.
So they had me watch her demise instead to learn.
And I sure did learn quite a bit. That in this country we call home, it was a vastly different from the old world where childhood was sacred.
Kids lost their heads like anyone else.
I cried myself to sleep that night, vowing that I would someday completely eliminate everyone from the French government in my country. That I would use the toothpicks I owned to torture them, and never let them die.
To poke them till they leave the country.
I was reminded again, of how much I valued meeting a girl that could have been executed. It was the first time I comprehended how opposed to capital punishment I really was.
There was a white mug spilled on the pavement of the parking lot. The manager didn't seem to pay attention, as he was to busy picking fights with other motel tenants.
My sexuality was like a constantly moving train, no matter what stops you have you will always come out ahead. The lady lump was beginning to develop into a sore subject. The desire for human contact fading nightly, and yet some calling need to find out where Anna-Marie had gone. Anna-Marie was the opposite of a digital cyberspace dream girl. I had known others only briefly outside of the inter webs. I clung to the idea of some vague notion of human innocents from game console flower girls in science fantasy games. And yet some or the lack of it had become a moot point.
I never found myself willing to hold onto relationships. They were a burden I simply did not even need. The closest I ever came to a relationship was being sucked off by a slightly homely but not altogether ugly girl. I didn't want to break her heart as we both knew it was arranged by some other slave master.
As I wander to find Anna-Marie, I am consumed by my inner thoughts and worries about whether she might do something stupid. I wasn't the type to rescue girls.
I merely wanted the entrainment.
I hadn't seen a beheading of someone I liked. I had mixed feelings of whether I wanted it to happen at all.