A little girl in the rain. Her hat is a little off its place and the hair curls, wet on her shoulders. People passing by don't look at her. To them she's just an old ghost of something which is not part of their life. Why should she be?

Earlier that day the sunshine had been playing on that same dress and her giggle had made people smile. She had been playing in the park the whole day with children, dogs, and birds. Things which usually children like to play with.

Now she stands and watches the area around her. The rain had made almost everyone go inside and the birds were silent. The gray air was a little foggy and cool. She finally took a step forward and slowly started to walk towards a bench nearby. Her eyes shimmered weakly as she approached the bench.

It had happened before too and she knew it. She bit her lip and repeated how she had known it. The wet bench felt a little cold when she sat on it, but it didn't matter. Her dress was already soaking wet. The sound of the rain was somehow calming. She hummed silently and wrapped her arms around her to stop the cold wind from hitting her skin too hard. She didn't want to catch cold, did she? They said it could kill her and dying didn't really sound like a nice thing to her. "God," they had said, "God doesn't like girls like you, girls who do bad things. When you die you won't get to see angels, like others do. You will go to see the devil and his revenants, retarded bastards, bad people, just like you."

She blew her nose to her dress and moved the wet hair off her eyes. The wet cloth felt spiteful on her skin and she tried to ignore it. They were her only clothes anyways and taking them off would just it more sure she'd have to go to see the devil, who they claimed to be a real meanie, worse than the boys. Or the man who told her to take the dress off and then hit her with the belt.

The memory made her shiver and she tasted blood on her mouth. She had bitten her lip too hard and pouted. The blood just reminded her that she had last eaten in the morning before they took her out to the park. She ignored the hunger and climbed down the bench. She started to walk towards the gates of the park. The wet sand got into her shoe and scrubbed her skin, making her stop and take the shoe off. The thought of the devil made her remove the sand quickly and put the shoe back on quickly.

She always tried to be a good girl; she tried the best she could, but the ma'am didn't seem to believe it. The ma'am started to yell when she was crying. She said something about how she didn't appreciate all what she and the man do for her. She didn't really remember when it had started, the things they did for her. She remembered when the man brought her the dress and the shoes after he had played an odd game with her. He had smiled and said that she was a good girl and that she would go to heaven, but when ma'am came he had become angry. Then he and the ma'am had started to talk about the devil--ma'am screamed at her and the man.

The gate was cold when she opened it and walked on the street. The rain had lightened a bit and she looked around to see if there was anything familiar nearby. She was a little disappointed not to see the man to pick her up like he usually did. She started to head towards the houses. She tried to figure out where he was and stopped to wait to get to the other side of the street. They did leave her to the park every so often, but the man normally came to take her back. Ma'am used to start screaming when they came back but the man kissed ma'am on forehead and said something she wasn't able to hear.

The girl wandered on the street, not knowing how an old man looked at her, sitting in a T-Ford, an unlit cigarette on his lips. He felt a little sorry for the girl, but he couldn't take her back, not anymore. His wife had made it very clear--either her or the girl.

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