She was alone. Not a sibling in sight nor a parent around to ask how her sleep went. She fumbled down the stairs into the living room and frantically searched for the familiar scent of family. There was none. Her mom was not yet back from work and her decadent father was still squandering elsewhere in his usual drunken state. She took a sharp turn to the kitchen and saw a man in dirty white tank top with disheveled hair and stocky build chopping away onions oblivious of her presence. His pale skin glistened and his tattooed biceps grew more sinister neath the white light as the little girl gawked awkwardly at his back.
It was Miguel, the house help procured by her alcohol-jangled and senseless father fresh from the bowels of the local penitentiary who was previously imprisoned for 2 counts of rape and 1 count of arson. Her father thought it was a humane way to help in removing the stains of social stigma for someone starting over. It was his rehabilitation and her dad thought himself a saint for doing such. Her mom, on the other, was hand clueless of this. She was spared the details of the house help's shady past courtesy of the witless husband. So she went about her usual daily routine and gullibly left the kids to the custody of the guileful offender.
For a moment, he appeared to be so absorbed in chopping down the wooden board and then for a split-second, he turned his head in a slow and calculated manner towards her direction. A devious grin spread across his lips. The little girl continued to stare back.. unsure on what to do. And then all she managed to say was, "Have you seen my brother and sister mister?" His smile further widened into a sneer as he told the little girl they went to play with their neighbors two blocks away.
He inched his way closer to the poor little girl with the razor sharp knife still in his hands. This time, naked panic shot through the little girls eyes as Miguel continued to advance towards her direction while purposely toppling down the dining table and chairs across the room. She was helpless. She tried to scream but it was immediately stifled by Miguel, his hands corrupt with malice.
Muffled sounds erupted through the room. The little girl tried with all her might and scrawny body to fight off the ruthless beast but to no avail. She struggled so hard to break free from his vice-grip arms with the silver blade inching closer to her gut. She was bleeding now. She was bathing in her own blood and yet the vicious animal still continued to pin her down determined to finish what he started.
Seven minutes of struggle had passed and finally, Miguel tried to slow down as he noticed the little girl no longer resisted. He then suddenly let go of her limp body as the enormity of his actions dawned to him.
She was lifeless and drained of blood. Her duodenum protruding. And for the last time, she lay motionless on the cold, damp floor as if asleep. But this time, it will be a nap that will keep her in deep and eternal slumber, no longer to be awakened by a weird collection of cacophonous sounds in her eardrums. That was the last sunset she ever saw.