September 12, 2010. The dead girl lying inside the coffin, who looked as if she was sleeping the best sleep of her life, was my cousin’s daughter.
She was turning seven this year. Her name was Barbie and she had cerebral palsy. She never learned how to walk or to utter words properly.
She looked every inch her name sake. Inside the little white box, anyone could easily mistake her for a porcelain doll.
I didn’t cry when I came to the first day of her wake yesterday. I felt nothing. Well, if anything, I did feel sorry for her mother.