I saw a girl get shot


I saw a girl get shot.
I knew her for maybe six, seven years.
She was in my class in 6th grade.
I sat on the same table as her in math.
She was good at math.
She’d get all excited when she had the answer.
She’d wave her hand in the air.
Her whole body used to stretch.
Then her folks moved house.
I didn’t see her again until high school.
And then only in the corridors.
Collecting books from her locker.
It had a photo of Bieber on it.
Sometimes she used to kiss it.
Standing on tiptoe to reach his lips.
Her whole body stretching.
She won a prize for swimming last year.
She stood on the stage with the principal.
Rocking back and forth on her feet.
Grinning at her parents.
I saw her once at the pool.
Swimming backstroke in a lilac bikini.
Her whole body stretched out in a line.
Cutting through the water.
She moved in her direction.
Yesterday, in the canteen,
a bullet entered her chest.
Her whole body stretched.
Her eyes opened wide.
She didn’t say a word.
She just died.

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