You've Got Mail

There is a girl,
Young and insecure
With herself and her peers
And the laughing insults
That society throws at her.
Calling her troll, calling her homely,
The plain country girl with her
Flat pug face and tangled black hair.
There was one place, though, where
She could be someone else,
One place where she could say
She was blonde, with bright blue eyes
And a size D chest.
She logs on,
The modem crackles and buzzes
And she's patched through.
AOL tells her she's got mail,
She reads through it, noting off
The ones who are interested in her.
She enters her favorite chat room,
Called 'Pedophiles Delight.'
She is oblivious to what that means,
She only knows that they love her here
And nowhere else.
She asks if there are men,
Men her age who will love her,
And immediately she is beset
With many men begging for her.
She feels the happiness coming,
Knowing that they want her,
Regardless of her looks.
One, his screen name was LoinKing69,
Sounded the best.
They talked back and forth
About sex and everything in between,
Then he asked her where she was from,
And she told him, oblivious that she had just
Signed her death warrant.
He asked her what her name was,
And she told him, although her name,
Betrayed her image.
Her name, Iris, was beautiful.
Her body, however, was not,
Short and stocky and small breasted.
The insults came back, filling her mind,
Making her lose her thoughts of the boy.
'Scag,' the pretty girls had said.
'Slut,' all the boys had hissed.
She pushed them away; now wasn't the time
To think of the injustices she had been dealt.
He said he would meet her,
He knew of the town,
At the Redford Park,
A few blocks from her house.
She logged off, happy for the first time in years.
She was now loved by someone,
Wanted by someone,
And would be killed by someone.
She awoke early,
Her mother smiled as she came in,
Her daughter looked happy for the first time in days.
She bounced out the door,
Saying she was going to the park,
And never came home.
She walked down the road,
The air was warm and kind against her skin,
And then she stopped suddenly, thinking,
'What is this man going to do when he sees,
that I am different from how I said I was?'
She almost went back, but then plowed on,
Naïve in the way that she thought that if
He did love her, it wouldn't matter.
She entered the park,
Trying fervently to make her
Stubborn curls stay down,
Looking for the boy.
She didn't see anyone who looked her age,
And she felt the old anger raising again.
She'd been fooled, duped into believing that
He was actually going to be there!
She turned to leave when she felt a hand
A strong, man's hand being placed on her shoulder.
She looked up, staring into the stoic face
Of an older man.
She smiled, slightly confused and he grabbed her wrist.
"Are you Iris?" he asked her, his voice like
wet silk sliding over a rock.
She nodded her head, sealing her fate.
He grinned hellishly and started to drag her off
Deep into the park, where no children would go.
"You wanted love," he whispered. "You wanted it and you'll have it."
He forced her to take off her clothes, piece by piece,
Until she knew what she was in for.
She started to scream, but he pulled out the tape,
Placing it over her thin lips, stifling her voice.
He raped her and then killed her, leaving her there for
The rodents to pick over, leaving her to be found days later
By an innocent child.
The whole town soon knew,
About the fate of this child,
The not so lovely, scorned child,
Who had been killed by someone she thought loved her.
The pretty ones felt bad about the way they treated her,
The boys felt bad about the ways they had used her,
And they should have,
Because it was them who had caused to
Turn out like this, trusting strange men
That she thought could love her.
It may have been to late to save her,
But what about the others?
They have mail, too.