inspired by a true story`

This is a story of a girl.
and of temptation, of reflection, of innocence.

The story sets its stage somewhere in the eastern south central of the United States, under the memphis jurisdiction- there lived a girl, eight; barely a teenager. She was a good student, filial, but relatively poor. She was brought up with a set of proper values- but as were all teens- she was confused. Adolescence, in its early stages, where the mind has yet t reach its state of maturity (even in the later stages this might not prove so) was a time of guesswork; without the love of her mother (whom had unfortunately passed away when the girl was 3) and her father, the breadwinner, being so ever often out, she gained much of her morality through the concepts commonly accepted by society; of which she had slowly, placed the existence of her social life on a subconscious pedestal- known as conformity.

There came a day when her friends had planned t attend a mini evening ball- an annual event of grandeur consisting of children of the upper class. She had much awaited this night, but unfortunately, she didnt have a gown, not a dress even, that was suitable for the event. Her friends had been giving her the cold shoulder ever since they knew this; they were nothing more than superficial and shallow acquaintances. Chameleons, rather- their ability of quick, non-fathomable facial and ideological changes, which in certain states, would be considered an art. She had thus been tempted, time and again, t steal from her father whenever the man was asleep. The final straw came when she walked into a boutique, merely glancing at the dresses she so very badly wanted, only t be scorned and chased away by the saleslady, who made it absolutely clear she was a child and didnt look like she could afford anything there.

She got the dress, after much apologies from the salesgirl of the day before and went t the ball with a terribly great sense of satisfaction. Her friends were in awe, for her gown was glamorous, and much of the limelight fell on the little girl that evening.

Her father was waiting for her when she got home that night.

He was furious. Never had he expected his little girl, one he had so highly adored, stealing from him, a whole three hundred, too! He took her hands, and tied them tightly together, following which, leaving the house t drown himself in sorrows from raising a bad child.

He was away for the entire night, and it wasn't until the following noon did he return. All this while the girl was alone at home, hands still tied firmly together. A good 14 hours. Her father got home, reeking strongly of alcohol, and found her daughter lying on the floor, face sheet white, hands purple; rotten hands, due t the lack of blood flow. He sobered almost immediately, and rushed the poor girl t the hospital.

The doctor told him it had been too long, and her limbs were no longer functioning; she had t amputate her hands. His heart collapsed as soon as those words left the doctor. The girl was only eight.

Two weeks after the amputation, the girl told her father, "Daddy, i'm so sorry i took your money. I promise, i promise, when i grow up, i'll give you back the money, and when i do.."
She paused, "Can you give me back my hands?"
The words came out of her mouth the very same time tears streaked down the sullen cheeks of her father.

He committed suicide two days later.