A picture of innocence
lying there on a fluffy pink bed
her thumb firmly secured
still pure
she is awakened from a peaceful sleep
with a gently furrowed brow
as she wonders
why?
a smile still softened by sleep
is directed to the man
who she trusts with all she knows
her daddy, who will do no harm
his hands
his caress
his hug
they feel different...
why daddy?
struggling to understand
cluthching her worn bear
P A I N
she whimpers
feels the sharp slap
as red welts leave marks
from his hands.
innocence fastly fading,
there is realization in her eye's
reflected in the
tears that leak out to fall,
staining the pink bed
Paul Mehan was gently awakened by a soft voice calling his name. He drank in the scent of brewing coffee, and still half in slumber, directed a muffled, "Morning," to the voice. The wall, which birthed the gentle whisper, displayed a child's face, with lavender eyes, a sprinkling of freckles, and flowing mahogany curls.
Every family in the year 2080 had a HSAI, but Paul's was special. Her name was Noelle and everything about her, the slight lisp in her voice and how she woke him with a delicate murmur, was the same as when she was seven years old. Home Surveillance Artificial Intelligence was a system that, when installed in homes, contr
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The strains of the organ and cello's song filtered through the beams of multicolored light streaming though the church. One beam shone directly upon the coffin, sitting alone on the platform. It was a rich mahogany form, looking peaceful enough, until one looked into the top and viewed the corpse, made up to look like the person they once were, but the body with no soul could never look the same. There were no flowers in the cathedral; no cloying scent brought on by the death white lily's usually present. There was a table, appearing tiny next to the coffin, and it held a photograph of the dead girl.
She had a slight smile on her o