Eliza Roes

The tarmac alley is dusky and cold,
Houses either side; empty and old.
Eliza Roes walks the path alone,
Her footsteps cracks of fracturing bone.

A gate opens, a chapped hand snatches.
In Eliza's throat fear hatches,
A shriek forms, poised to fly,
The hand clamps down: noise will die.

School shirt torn from seam to seam,
Punishments for every scream,
Eliza bites down on her lip,
Undone button, pulled down zip.

A burning rage, undying shame.
I only have myself to blame.
Blood trickling down to her knees,
Eliza gives up on pointless pleas.

Face hidden, his actions rough.
The man eventually has enough.
Eliza Roes staggers home alone,
Her footsteps the echo of cruelty shown.

"Eliza Roes?" The registration call.
Silence bounces from wall to wall.
"Where is that girl? Eliza Roes?"
Silence stretches.
No one knows.