He carried the girl to the patch of thick moss that grew along the riverbank. Tiny purple flowers and bright green moss created the perfect bed for his precious darling. She’d lasted a few days longer than his last girlfriend before she tried to escape. He still bore the wound she’d given him when she’d gouged his thigh with the spring she’d torn from the bed. The blood he’d shed had been nothing compared to the blood she soon shed, but he cleaned it all up and bathed them both. Now she would get to rest in the flowers and find some peace.
He tugged the white dress down and arranged her hands and feet. Her hair was still damp from the bath, but the russet curls looked lovely against the green. He’d had to find a white silk scarf to cover up the damage to her neck, but he could still make it all look perfect. It just took a little extra work this time. The lipstick and blush helped her look so sweet, he could barely resist kissing her one last time. The last touch, he pulled out the tin of ashes and whispered the prayer as he drew the cross on her brow.
It was a trial, but he’d just have to keep looking. If he prayed harder, if he suffered more, it’d be delivered. He knew the perfect girlfriend was out there for him. He’d just have to try again.
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