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Dark clouds scudded across the moon as a small girl hurried on anxiously along the path. Her footsteps seemed to echo in the shadows. Suddenly she stopped. Slowly she investigated the monument which stated of the latest deaths in their city. 1942, she walked on. 1943, 1944 still she kept on walking. A mist was gathering just beneath her knees seemingly cloaking them of the cold that was biting in to all those who had dared to venture out on that chilling December night. She felt a strong gaze on her, compelling her to seek it out. She thought about her foster mother and father telling her to always keep her head down. She remembered how their lives had so cruelly and abruptly been ended .She felt her anger burst out like a damn, not for the first time since her parent's sad demise.

Fresh shivers began spiralling down her back as she remembered the night of her parents' death. Almost like a video it rewinded itself and started playing. As she relapsed once more in the horrors of her past she was quite Oblivious to the tears skidding down her cheek, cleaning a fresh route through the thick layers of soot and dirt covering her face. And even less so of seating herself on the cold, dirty ground of the almost empty street, where her parents had had their last breath.

Almost empty'
For though the young girl had hoped she could wallow in her pity, here alone and undisturbed it was heartbreaking how far from the truth she was. Concealed far behind the shadows was the true horror that would highlight her life. And as she sat mourning over her dead parents, beyond the shadows he was becoming more and more restless with excitement.

In the safe shadows were no eyes could behold him, he sat there watching the small girl avidly. Musing at her stupidity and his good fortune. Yet he knew why she was here and that was what made it crueller still that he was to take her as his next victim. He laughed silently as she sat there crying for the parents he had heartlessly murdered.

Finally the girl tore away from her past, her mothers shrill scream pierced through the silence of history, as six shots hit her head simultaneously. She felt herself overcome with cold sweat and the memories she had just relived. She could hardly remember how or why she had come to sitting on the icy cold ground but as she rose she was once again aware of being at the liberty of someone's gaze.
*
I stood behind her, savoring every second of her discomfort. Her eyes though red from all the crying still bore evidence of sheer horror.

In the end one clean shot is all it took to stop a tragedy from ever happening. The bullet whistled past shattering the silence in the street but I knew no-one would come. None who cared for their life would ever step foot in this street.

But this small girl who lies in a bundle beside my feet now dared and in coming she paid the ultimate price.

Her name?
My daughter.