Fiona’s POV.
It was just one of the little girl’s here this time.
I expected her to be crying or cowering in a corner as usual, but instead, she was dressed in a pretty blue dress while playing with dolls. She’s seated on the floor, looking every bit as calm and childishly content as possible. Her face is devoid of tears and pain and the scars on her skin are gone. She makes funny faces and funny noises as she does so, sometimes I catch whispers of her voice. Childlike and sweet, devoid of all the pain that I usually hear in her.
I crouch down and just watch her play comfortably in that dark room. She looks calm, she looks happy, but there’s a voice in my head telling me that this is wrong, there’s something very wrong about this image, something wrong has happened to this girl.
I rub
