Eyes still closed, she begins to pray the dreams come back through the fog and become her reality again.
She remembers this one, she's not alone anymore.
She's accepted for who she is and a part of the crowd.
Somebody loves her.
Somebody wants her, needs her, and not just to own her.
Opening her eyes, the first thing she sees are clothes.
Everything is just threw into a pile on the floor.
She hears screaming in the distance and thinks to herself,
"It begins."
Setting up and lifting her head she sees her reflection in the dresser mirror across from her.
She doesn't think she is pretty, she doesn't feel worth it.
Before her eyes can begin to cloud, she clambers up and shuts her bedroom door to change.
She hears her name being screamed before the 'click' of door knob can be heard.
She screams back.
She wishes she could just do as the scream told her.
She knows life would be so much easier on her and everyone else.
But she doesn't.
She doesn't understand why her body refuses to do what her mind knows but, ignoring the scream she gets dressed.
More screams.
Many more.
Then she hears footsteps.
Quickly she buttons her pants and pulls her shirt down.
The door opens.
Screaming.
Chores are issued.
She ignores.
Doesnt reply.
Threats are made.
Like always.
More screams.
She shakes her head in agreement to make the screams go away.
As the screams walk away she wonders if the back door would be an easier out then the front.
She wonders if it's worth tempting.
Then the greatest threat is thrown by the screams.
"Leave without my permission and I'll have the cops pick you up and then you'll be court ordered away."
Her resolve snaps.
She begins to scream back.
It's one of those days already.
The pain begins to drill a hole through her chest.
She pictures the little black bag in her purse.
She promised herself she'd try to stop.
She doesnt want to need it anymore.
She wants to know how to control it.
Quickly, she runs out the front door.
She wants her sanctuary.
No, she needs it.
She sees the trees in the distance.
She begins to brighten.
She runs.
She runs faster than she thinks she has ever run before.
The trees are her salvation.
The screams wont go that far.
She just hopes He wont try to follow her.
He never has before but, there is a first for everything.
Finally.
She sees the clearing.
Not really a clearing but,
a very large deformed tree that has such large roots that nothing besides weeds has room to grow near it.
She finds the largest root underneath the largest opening in the limbs.
She loves it here.
She wishes she could stay here forever.
No more screams.
No more pain.
No more failure.
It's impossible.
She knows.
But she still dreams.
Yes.
That what she comes here for.
She can lay down and stare at the sky and see all the impossibilities.
She can pretend she is just Cinderella,
waiting for her Fairy Godmother.
She wishes reality wouldnt barge in on these moments.
Before she realises it,
the sun has changed positions and she knows she must return.
The cops could already be there.
She doesnt want to go back.
But she doesnt know which is worse anymore.
She begins her walk back.
'Will the screams have changed?'
She wonders.
She hopes but knows better.
At the edge of the treeline she can hear the faint noise of the screams.
She's not ready.
Please.
She begs the universe.
She closes her eyes, waiting.
For nothing.
She go to the front yard and lays between the U - shaped driveway and the road.
Maybe the universe will give her a break and make her invisible.
No.
They say "God" doesn't give you something you can't handle.
But when the screams are right next to her she questions this "God's" sanity.
She does the wrong thing.
She chuckles at her own joke.
The screams think she is laughing at them.
She feels an impact on the side of her head.
Her eyes open.
The screams are blood red.
She realises she was just kicked the in the head.
Her ears begin to ring.
The pain is back.
There is no way to escape.
It hurts so much.
She begins to hypervintilate.
She jumps up and begins to run.
He keeps the screams at bay as she passes.
She doesn't even notice he is on the phone.
She doesn't notice he is screaming.
She doesnt realise He just called Help.
She barely notices as she grabs her bag and runs to the bathroom.
The screams never follow her in there.
She doesnt know why.
But she treasures that fact.
She drops her bag on the counter and turns on the shower.
She doesnt like for them to hear her cries.
Her eyes begin to cloud as She dumps her bag out.
Small Scissors.
Large scissors.
Straight blade Kitchen knife.
Old rusty Razor.
She hates this.
She loves this.
She knows her arms are off limits now.
They found them.
She yanks her pants down and begins.
First the small scissors.
Then the large.
Then the kitchen knife.
It always seems to be able to get through the last layer best.
Then the razor.
She feels the blood begin to poor.
57.
She doesnt know why she has to have an order to everything.
She doesnt understand many things about herself.
But she knows her only way of coping.
The pain starts to ebb away.
Her eyes clear.
No!
There is so much this time.
Everything is red.
So red.
It's never been this much before.
She becomes scared.
She grabs the closest thing to her.
A white towel.
She wraps it tightly around her thigh.
She refuses to look.
Once it has been knotted she knows the clean up begins.
Two wrags this time.
They have to be wet.
She doesnt know how long its been but she knows Help will be home soon.
She must go to bed early.
She hates the interrogation.
She is always wrong.
Always at fault.
She unwraps the towel and prays it has stopped.
She's lucky this time.
A white towel.
Now stained red.
She really hopes they dont notice.
She burries it at the bottom of the clothes hamper.
She takes the rest of her clothes off and sets the water tempature in the shower.
The water hits her.
It stings.
Horribly.
She begins to cry again.
This time for a different reason.
Why?
The question she always asks after.
She hears the screams.
She knows Help must be home.
Quickly, she dries off with her t-shirt.
As fast as she can she puts on a gown and climbs in bed.
Her heart is racing.
She's trying to slow her breathing.
It never works fast enough.
The loudest screams of all begin.
She closes her eyes.
'Just breathe.'
she commands herself.
It stops as she hears her door open.
She holds her breathe.
'I'm asleep. I'm asleep. I'm asleep.'
begins the mantra.
Blood rushes to her head and heartbeat begins to drum her hearing.
She knows helps at her door.
She knows helps saying her name.
She doesnt answer.
She never does.
The door shuts.
She lets out her breathe in exhaustion.
Another day.
Over.
She sighs and grabs her book from under her pillow.
Her home away from home.
Maybe sleep will come quickly.
She lives to dream.