Bra's story
Mama and papa were fighting again
Fists flying, bottles breaking
Staining the floor in their blood
This fighting's been happening every night
Ever since papa got drunk
At first my brother was there for me
But now the stress's far too much
He gives me a change, and food for the night
Leaving me alone with their hatrid
One night they had crossed the line
Mama had gotten drunk too
It pained me inside
To see her like that
Something just had to be done
I was careful not to break my crib
As I silently crawled 'cross the floor
Holding my blanket on my hand
I broke mama's razor, taking the blade
And took the tiny handgun from under her bed
They were both passed out at the table
Dripping beer in one hand
Balled fist in the other
Sighing, I crawl to the
Getting on mama's lap
She has far lower ki than papa
And it'd take longer to tell she was dead
Hiding beneath my blanket
I press the blade into her neck
Her blood foutians out, coating my blanket
And she's dead before she can open her eyes
Papa grunts, but he doesn't move
So I climb over onto his lap
Crying a little as I hold up the gun
Putting a bullet right between his eyes
I place the gun under mama's hand
As if she had dropped it herself
Wrapping the tiny blanket 'round papa's arm
Going back to my crib in silence
Ten minutes I start to cry
Turing the baby moniter up to the max
Knowing to get to my room, you had to go through the hall
Letting nana discover the bodies