100 graves dug later and it never gets easier as I bury another teddy bear thats tainted with her blood. its a mental mind fuck knowing it will never end. Her dead voice cuts through the night as soon as the last bit of dirt covers up any remains of her tragedy. THE TRAGEDY OF MY OWN MISTAKE!!!

  "Mommy?" I turn around in usion to face the voice that was once my sweet baby girl, ---MY OWN DAUGHTER FOR FUCKS SAKE! --- who looks at me with black eyes and clutching her bloody teddy bear. The shovel blade still embedds the side of her head as the blood matts her hair across her forehead.

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  With her lips shaking with fear, her words thread the hurt my heart feels, every syllable becomes another 100 degree needle to peirce my heart like thin fabric. "Mommy, im scared" as she runs out to me with ink and blood rushing down her eyes. I embrace her impact with dirty hands and weary arms. I miss her.

  "Its okay baby, it will all be over soon." And as I hug her tightly knowing the mental cycle will never end. And as i sit in solitude in the middle of the woods, i let the shovel fall out of my arms. And as the moonlight shines on the shovels metal, I undig the bloody teddy bear out from the dirt to bury the pain again. -999??