Simki was a piece of their heart, they said, when they took her away. But didn't they think of that when they sold her?
Simki was their possession, so her owners said. But will that ever justify those burn marks that scar her arms?
Simki was a child, the world said. But they cursed her, beat her, forced her to do their dirty work and nearly killed her every single day.
Simki was a girl too. His eyes, his sickening eyes feasted on her child-like limbs. Oh! the cursed world. Why didn't they stop him? Why didn't they stop him from taking away her innocence? Wasn't she just nine? Didn't that matter?
Simki was a barren land with beauty of a human within, yet, she cried every night. She owned nothing. Not even herself.
A while back, as she skipped amongst the trees- her face haggard, matured by time. She discovered a small coin on the ground. As her tiny hands picked it up, the world was lighted again.
Her joy knew no bounds, her happiness fluttered in the spring morning.
It was her discovery, her possession.
Her mute mouth let out a shout that nobody could understand. But her heart spoke out. Finally.
Yes, she was Simki. And she was just a child.