I remember a little girl, filled with such dreams and aspirations for her life. Nothing could stop her from getting her point across, or making sure her presence was known. I remember watching her grow up, and go off to college towards new adventures. I also remember watching it happen. I watched the little girl I knew and loved so dearly completely lose herself, lost to the lies she believed to be true. I guess that is what happens to everyone who grows up, they forget who they were. Some move on to bigger and better, while others get lost in the lies and empty promises of this world. It wasn’t all bad of course, but nothing hit her so hard as this year did.

I remember she was practically leaping up the stairs to her new life for the next two semesters, smiling at everyone without a single care in the world, because she was home for the year. I remember when we used to be her home, and how we used to play with her, and watch her grow. She was so comfortable with her relationship, and her friendships, and we were happy for her.

I remember when she knew you, you were always there with her on her bed with your long floppy ears and pink button nose. You were there with her when she couldn’t sleep, or was having a bad dream. You played with her when she was lonely, and let her take you with her wherever she went. I remember being in the backyard with her as she would play with us for hours on end, creating her own worlds that we got to be apart of. I loved to be apart of her world. I can picture her laughing in her rainbow colored sandals with her mismatched clothes, because she didn’t care, she was happy. And then, she grew up.

It was hard to watch her grow apart from us, being pushed under the bed or the placed in a box. We were replaced, but we knew the time would come eventually, we just didn’t know how. The same little girl that could play for hours, would cry. The worst was when she stopped drawing. Her room used to be covered with her drawings, everything so colorful, and so pink. All her imaginary worlds, all her stories, her fairy houses and bed forts, were all forgotten. But the saddest of them all was, she had lost her color.

I am sad to report the girl we once knew, has grown up. I always knew there was a flame in her, but I never would have predicted the fire. We all sort of saw it, but it happened so quickly it wasn’t easy to follow. Few rejected her, and I know for her that was the nail in the coffin. Her once comfortable relationship, and friendships, were now over.

I remember when it was impossible for others to dislike her, she was so young and innocent, spewing love on anyone she came in contact with. I remember that little girl still, even though she too was pushed away. I know she’s gone; I know that what she did cannot be taken back, and she can never fully be that little girl again. I can only hope that light will find its way back into her heart. You probably don’t believe any of this, for who could have known? Who could have looked at a little girl playing with her bunny and assumed all that would happen? Most of us look at children and don't think of a serial killer, an addict, or a prostitute, how could we? But it happens, because every serial killer, every addict and prostitute was once an innocent little kid.

I know she is still haunted by what she has done, it hurts her to even talk about the little girl, because she can't help but feel like she killed her. All she had done contributed to her death, specifically this year. The year she lost the people she had known, the memories that were too painful to talk about, and the mistakes that grew into disasters. She is a stranger to the ones she had loved, and quite honestly a stranger to herself. I remember seeing the slightest glimpse of her one day. It wasn’t a good day, nor a pleasant sight, but in that moment through the blood curdling screams and sobbing I heard her. Though she was not fully conscious, and completely lost in her own head, desperately crying out for someone to help her, I could hear her, I could hear the little girl.

I don’t know what’s next for her, she has a whole summer ahead of her, and I am sincerely hoping she can find herself again. That girl was going to the moon, and we all knew it. She just needs to remember that; to remember the little girl that is still in there somewhere. For now, I’m trusting you with her. So take her to the moon for me, okay?