REBECCA

 by Ellen Pepper

See that girl?

That girl, there.

With her sparkly pink tutu and worn ballet slippers;

faithfully executing her pliés and grands jeté every day,

because she wants to be a ballerina

when she grows up.

She's the girl who always carries a notepad

and a thick book to read at spare moments

because she also wants to become a novelist,

when she grows up.

That girl practises on her piano daily

because she wants to compose music for ballet,

that she'll dance to

when she grows up.

That girl is working hard to create a fulfilling life,

for when she grows up.

That girl is deeply loved.

That's the girl you see now,

bleeding and dying

on the icy tiles of her classroom floor

beside her mutilated and slain friends,

because someone came in with a gun

who had different plans for her,

her teacher,

and her classmates.

And there was no good guy with a gun to stop him.

Her name was Rebecca.

She was 10 years old.

© Ellen Pepper 2022