...and the sun went down

She was skipping along the dirt road dressed in a pinafore of white with pink flowers. Her long black hair swung lightly with the breeze. Her hair fell in her eyes, which she absently swept back with her hand. She held on dearly to the white lilies in her other hand. Her once white sandals were now covered with dirt, but she cared for nothing and skipped along the dirt-road.
It was late in the evening; the time when the sun is about to bow out for the day. From a distance she seemed like any other child of twelve years who was going home. Looking closely, one could see a frown on her face and a fear in her eyes. She wanted to reach home before her mother got worried and set out searching for her.
It was not the forest that she feared or the wild animals in the forest, but the look of disappointment on the face of her mother. A single disapproving word from her mother wilted her. She was not skipping, but runnning as quickly as possible, given the limp she had in her leg since the day she fell in the playground and broke her right leg. It never was properly fixed.
There was a rustle behind her, but she was not dettered. She moved on without looking back. Her mother's face loomed in front of her. This time the rustling was nearer and louder. She moved on.
The rustling grew into sound of footfall. She was sure it was not a wild creature, coz then she would not have heard the footfall. Reassured she moved along.
A hand came out and touched her, expecting it to be her friend, she turned around with a smile... her smile froze when she saw the person to whom the hand belonged.
She tried to run away, but the hand held her firmly and would not let go. She tried biting the hand, kicking the owner of the hand.. all in vain. She cursed herself for not starting earlier for home. She knew this time she was in big trouble and even her mother would not be able to help her.
The hand covered her mouth, so that she could not voice her thoughts or call for help. The owner of the hand pulled her along the path, dragging her, dirtying her pinafore. She was scared now.
All she wanted was to cry out for her mother.. she would save her, but the hand did not let her talk to her mother. She tried communicating through her mind with her mother, but the mother was too busy worrying about her daughter to hear her child's silent cries.
The owner of the hand crushed her windpipe till she could not breathe and life went out of her eyes. Her bright, full of life black eyes, now were open and staring listlessly at the owner of the hands.
She would never reach home to her mother, who must be wringing her hands now and pacing up and down the pathway to the gate of the house.
The owner of the hands looked at the once warm body of the daughter that was now becoming stiff as death took the body in its forgiving arms. The owner of the hands was sobbing for the loss that had happened, he was wailing for his lost daughter.
He picked up the small girl in his arms and moved towards the gate where the mother was pacing, in anticipation of her husband. When she saw her husband carrying the girl, she broke into tears. She knew her daughter was now in a better place.