Sometimes you just have to cry for release
I once worked with a girl called Sybil who was so badly abused that everything in her world was dirty she wouldn’t wash wouldn’t change her clothes wouldn’t even touch herself to eat she lived in a cottage at the end of the community as the other residents didn’t want to be near her I was one of two people she would let touch her I would go in her room in the mornings she would be laying in bed fully dressed hands clasped tightly to her chest shaking as she’d be cold from having soiled herself not wanting to move during the night I would pick her up in my arms and she would cling on to my neck as if I was life itself there was something about her eyes that innocence that you could not help but love and fall into until you disappeared I would take her in the bathroom stand her in the shower and tell her if she didn’t let the female member of staff wash her I would one of the few times she would smile I took two weeks off after a year as my ex wife was giving me shit about I cared too much for the children while I was off Sybil was sectioned and killed herself within a week I cry like a baby when I think of her as I regard it as being such a personal failure I failed her listening to a bitch that wanted me to be a normal man I’ll have to carry that forever but I’ll never do what someone else wants me to when my heart tells me it’s wrong xxXxx