1

Once upon a long time ago,
when tears were unheard of,
and grief forbidden,
when the morning doves chirped freely,
when the rules were set to perfect order,
a little girl dared break every single one of them.

But,
it didn't work out.
And she was found out.
They tried her for treason against the crown
and she was found guilty.

So,
Sunday,
the sixteenth of April,
she was destined to fall to
flames
that would scorch her body
to ashes.

As
the people watched,
second by second,
awarness dawned upon them.
Quietly, each of them mourned
for the little girl
whose happy cries of joy
whose gently carresses of love
whose home baked cookies
they would never see again.

Like
any sensible society,
they decided to destroy their government.
To grind it
and grind it
and grind it
until
it
didn't exist.
It deserved it.

And now?

Their world engulfed in
misunderstanding,
desolation,
confusion,
sorrow,
misery,
and
the less than effortless
way of living they sought after,
a purpose created out of good,
may not end good.

And so,
If thirteen year old Izzie Soya
wants to kill herself,
because it's less than effortless,
could,
should,
would,
you blame her?

No?
I didn't think so.

You'd probably even agree with her.

Am I wrong?