This quick little one-shot came to me while I was lying around listening to Why So Serious. I dunno, I just felt like doing something with it. ^_^

So here goes!!

I have told many stories of how I got these scars. None of them are true. I have never before told the true story. I don't know why, but I try never to think of it so that I can pretend to bury the horror.

I was younger then, rash, and not as clever. It was a balmy summer evening. I was walking through a small alleyway, and chanced upon a man walking with his young daughter. I killed the man without a thought, right in front of the girl. She sobbed, even though she didn't really understand. I wiped away her hot tears, and held her chin and tipped her face up to look at me. I said, "Why are you crying, sweetie? Be happy, please!" I reveled in how cruel my honey-sweet voice sounded.

The little girl said, "Why? You aren't happy."

I halted at this, and pondered. This small sentence made a fury burn within me. A fury so terrible that I felt myself shake. Why should I be happy? What right did this little girl have to show me what I was missing? There was no point in trying to hold my anger in; I was beyond any reasonable thoughts.

And so I raised my knife to my face and carved myself a smile. It was unbelievably painful, but I kept my gaze trained on the girl's brilliant blue eyes, and didn't make a sound. When I was done, she was horrified beyond tears. I said viciously, "Now am I happy? Am I smiling enough for you now?"

Very quietly, so that I could barely hear her, the girl whispered. "No. My daddy always says that the smile is in your eyes, not your mouth."

I had never really watched people smile; I watched them die. I didn't understand what she was saying.

And so I killed the little girl.

Hope that you enjoyed it, because it was pretty interesting- and fun!- to write. :D


Cheers,

Freedom of Thought