Murder Had A Blood Red Door On

She Didn't Even Have To Smile, And She Rarely Did Outside Her House--it Was The Eyes, Her Dancer's Carriage, The Way She Seemed To Deliberate Over The Smallest Movement Of Her Body.

Each Time I Told My Story, I Lost A Bit, The Smallest Drop Of Pain. It Was That Day That I Knew I Wanted To Tell The Story Of My Family. Because Horror On Earth Is Real And It Is Every Day. It Is Like A Flower Or Like The Sun; It Cannot Be Contained.

You Look Invincible,' My Mother Said One Night. I Loved These Times, When We Seemed To Feel The Same Thing. I Turned To Her, Wrapped In My Thin Gown, And Said: I Am.

I Loved The Way The Burned-out Flashcubes Of The Kodak Instamatic Marked A Moment That Had Passed, One That Would Now Be Gone Forever Except For A Picture.

I Forgive You," I Said. I Said What I Had To. I Would Die By Pieces To Save Myself From Real Death.