I'm lying in the dark now, waiting. Just a few more minutes. l have to stop crying, but I'm not sure I can. It doesn't matter, though. She won't notice. She never does. I used have nightmares when I was younger. Everything would be hazy and I would be moving so slowly ... and I couldn't get away fast enough. I would dream about the shadows. Streaks of darkness would come and sweep me up. I would wake up sweating, screaming into the dark corners of the room. She would come and put her arms around me and whisper something ... I don't remember. I only know, the way you know in dreams - delirium, that something is ... wrong. There's something stagnant in the silence. Why won't someone tell me? What happened to the sunlit afternoons? I don't remember afternoons anymore. Just the early morning, the dark.

But she's coming soon. That's her step in the hall, isn't it? Or is it the creaking of the floorboards? No, she wouldn't be up yet; it's only 4:30. Soon, she'll come. she'll scream again, but not as loud as I will. I'll shatter my voice. The nightmares are beginning again. Why won't someone put their arms around me? Because I'm not her child - because I'm not screaming, anymore ... I'm older now. I don't scream. I just pretend it doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt, of course it doesn't ... of course, it can't. She can't hear the fear in my voice, because I lost it screaming years ago. It doesn't matter, really. Is that what growing up is? Some little voice inside me is spinning out of control, raging in my ears. And my eyes. What's happened to my eyes? But I don't care. I can't. I'll stare in the face of your faith. Even if it hurts me - it wouldn't be the first time. I wish - but, no ... no one can put their arms around me. No one can touch me. No one would. I can't remember what it's ... like but the shadows might take me up again. They might wrap me up and whisper evil secrets in my ears, like a thousand dead fairy tales. Black wings, again and I can hear her coming down the hallway. I love you too .... 1