-This is a work of fiction based on The Gashlycrumb Tinies, a poem and alphabet primer by Edward Gorey. It is rated T for violence resulting in accidental and intentional deaths. This work is written purely for entertainment value. Please don't sue me.-

K is for Kate
by Elisabeth Henry

Two police officers stood in the small, snow-covered field. One of them was chewing a stick of peppermint gum.

'Give us a bit o' that, won't ye?' said his partner. His breath plumed in the freezing night air.

The gum changed hands.

'Wot d'ye think?' asked the taller of the two, as he returned the packet of gum to his Duffle coat.

'Definitely suicide,' said the first officer, chewing ferociously on his gum. He pulled a notebook from an inside pocket.

The second officer looked pensively at the corpse. There was an enormous, single-bladed axe sticking out of the girl's chest, and her nightgown was soaked with blood. 'Oh, aye,' he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to ward off the chill. ''S possible.'

The first officer nodded firmly and whipped out a ratty pencil stub. He licked the tip and flipped to a blank page in his notebook. 'Su-i-cide,' he said, carefully writing it in his book.

'Only,' the second officer added, 'that axe is bigger than she is, innit?'

There was a moment's silence while the two men considered this fact.

'Well,' said the first officer, 'she could've thrown 'erself on it, like.'

His partner nodded slowly. 'S'pose,' he said agreeably. 'Only, she's on her back, ain't she?'

The first officer crouched beside the tiny body. Its arms were flung out above its head, its eyes wide and staring. The officer twisted his head a bit, following the corpse's gaze. The sky was clear, and the stars were very bright.

'Wonder wot she's lookin' at,' he said aloud.

The second officer glanced up, and shrugged. 'I don't see nuffin'.' He looked around at the scene. ''Ere. There's tracks 'ere,' he said, pointing.

There were, indeed, tracks. Large ones. Too large to belong to a six-year old girl.

'Assisted suicide?' the first officer amended.

His partner considered this for a moment. 'Yeah, maybe,' he said. He nodded towards the corpse. 'Wot's that on 'er wrist, then?' he asked. 'Looks like a bracelet.'

'Erhm,' said the first officer, peering at it. 'It's a bracelet.'

The second officer looked thoughtful. 'Wot's it say?'

The first officer leaned over and unclasped the gold-plated bangle. Spelled out on the side, in cheap rhinestones, was a name: Kate.

'Sez "Kate",' he replied, straightening. 'D'you s'pose that's 'er name?'

'Nah,' said the second officer, studying the vacant face of the dead child. 'She looks more like a "Polly", don't ye think?'

The first officer pursed his lips and nodded. 'Yeah. Or a "Barbara".'

His partner grunted noncommittally as an ambulance drew up next to them. The emergency crew climbed out and fussed around the corpse as the two officers wandered back to their patrol car.

'Startin' younger an' younger, ain't they?' said the second officer, sighing.

The first officer nodded. 'Yeah. Real sad, like,' he agreed. He spit his gum into a nearby bush. 'C'mon; it's Ruth's birthday. There's cake back at the station.'

'Oo-er, cake,' the second officer said, belting himself into the passenger seat. 'Chocolate?'

'Erhm, lemon, I think,' said the first officer as they drove away, wheels crunching over the snow. 'Chocolate gives her gas, like.'

K is for Kate who was struck with an axe...