Little Girls Can Be Dangerous Too

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She held the fish up to the light and watched it squirm for the chance to live. The sun cast an almost angelic filter to the moment and for a minute everything about the fleeting nature of life flashed quickly and insignificantly before her eyes. There was nothing significant about that fish, nor the fact that she picked a fish, or the fact that it was this day she decided to kill this fish. It was a fish, now a dead fish. She would never remember the way it begged for life or the gross way it’s eyes bulged out of his head as she squeezed it out of existence. A fish…a person…what was the difference? She smiled, picked up her backpack and went home. Her mom would be waiting with a mug of hot chocolate and  her usual oblivious nature.


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Kamalini Govender

I'm that girl that looks badass in her black boots reading Gothic Psychoanalytic Lit but really just wants to pew pew pew with someone.

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