There once was a little girl with, at best, a tenuous grip on reality.
Perhaps she was incapable of taking responsibility of her own actions,
or maybe she just enjoyed wallowing in self-pity. Most likely, however,
she's just been smoking too much cactus weed.
The world may never know.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Scarlatan, in the year 299 AF.