Djinn Chapter Two
I become a drum roll I am held, as so seldom now, in the deepest, barest
part of this girl. She thinks she is in the woods. I want to tell her that the
wood she smells is a coffin, and the whispering is not leaves but trickling.
The lid is ill fitting and she is waiting to drown in the earth she came from.
She hurts because she has been misused. She is frightened because it is dark.
She is dying because they wished it.
