I just heard a gunshot ring through my ear and into my head. The loud pop woke me up from looking at the man standing over the body...

  Dead.

     The cold look in his eye, the smoke coming from the gun, the slight turn of his body-- arousement at what he has just done.

     It makes me sick.

       I open my eyes and the nightmare continues... society is the man, I am the body, dead, now only the shell of me exists, the shell for the world to see.

      A zombie living in this haunting dream, ghosts do not extist, but for a moment, if I close my eyes again---

    ---I see the stuffed puppy dog and the short blonde-haired, big-brown-eyed girl, looking back over her shoulder as she said goodbye one last time to all that she knew.

    Society and pressure would change her, and this aroused man, would hurt her more than any little boy's act could do.