The Girl in Red

Little Red and the Wolf

Once upon a time

somewhere far, far in the woods

there lived a little Girl in Red

who was raised to be "good".

 

How good?

Very good.

To be proper, to be clean

To always speak when spoken to

Yet, there is no "good" 

in her frail childhood.

 

She never played with dolls,

She was scolded not to utter a note.

She tries to be "good",

despite all the desires She wrote.

 

However, in this house of rigor

with rules to commend,

the Girl in Red sought escape

through a furry friend.

 

He was meanacing,

and his teeth were sharp.

However, with his big eyes and teethy grin,

he had no bark.

 

He was called he Wolf,

she was called the Girl in Red.

Together, they ran.

Far

Far

Far into the woods

to visit an old woman.

 

With the girl's grandma,

she was very sweet.

She was the one who gifted the Girl's prized color

and always offered the Wolf his meat.

 

The times were joyous,

The Girl and the Wolf enjoyed their time.

However, within that time

came an atrocious crime.

 

There came a day

when the Girl in Red walked alone.

Far

Far

Far in the woods.

Without her friend.

 

Alone.

Very alone.

 

Where was the Wolf?

 

She came to the house of her grandmother.

With the fear on her chest.

But, she was raised to be "good", to never fear from what was in front of her.

She opened the door.

 

All she saw was Red.

 

Red in the pie.

Red in the meat.

Red on the bed.

Red on her feet.

 

She could not scream,

She could not cry.

Instead, she politely asked him,

"Why?"

 

He was a monster,

a bad, bad man.

A big bad wolf,

with the Wolf in his hand.

 

"What big hands you have,"

The girl trained herself to say.

"And what big weapons you have..."

She dare not to move, before her feet could betray.

 

He said nothing,

He merely stood.

Until he raised his arm,

where his gun could shoot.

 

"I raised you well..."

"Until you met the Wolf."

"My mother died,"

"Because of you both."

 

BANG!

 

She was called the Girl in Red for a reason, after all...

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