I am having dreams of when the first time I saw her. It was raining, but it was cold enough to be snowing. I was walking home, forgot to bring my umbrella, and there she was. Standing boldly in the middle of the road; the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.
She was a child no doubt. Only five or six I would have to say. Her pale skin stretched over her fragile features. Her eyes were glowing, one an impossible blue, the other rich as chocolate. The pupils were like cats. Her ink black hair clung to the contours of her face. She was breathing for her breath crystallized the cold air surrounding her.
But the feature that surprised me the most was her stomach. It bulged under her pitiful excuse for a nightgown. Her breasts were of unnatural size.
This child, this little girl, was pregnant.
She walked up to me with graceful difficulty. Looking into my soul it seemed. I was stuck. Nothing could pull me away from this child except death. She reached a skeleton hand up to my face. I crouched down to her level. She stroked my cheek sending a fiery thrill threw my body.
She spoke with the chime of bells and the passion of fleeting spring.
"I like the cold, because it feels so much better when you find something warm." She giggled. For a moment I forgot how to breathe. "I won't kill you. I can't. I like you. I won't kill you." She smiled. Suddenly she gasped in pain and fainted. I caught her quickly and pulled her into my arms. Her swollen stomach resting against my chest.
What is she?
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