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Writing Sleeping in fear

moon-scar demon

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I slept in fear that night,fear of him returning to [I]our[/I] house. I was to tired but yet so awake,wanting to sleep but afraid to. My sisters were tucked bed and deep in innocent slumber, oblivious as to what was going on.I feared for my mother who walked the alley alone with him so close behind her. I had a headache,not a bad one but an irritating one that dulled my senses. It lodged itself in the front of my troubled head,not wanting release its grip on me until I was too was silently slumbering.But I could not,knowing my mother and possibly my grandmother were in danger. In danger of a man I once called my father,for 11 years I did that,but no more.He made an oath in blood,fire and ice.He cut his wrist,too deep perhaps,blood oozed from the wound,dripping on the hotel carpet.He then proceeded to burn a few hairs on his arm for a few seconds,then putting ice on the festering wound. Only to put his bloody hand on the Bible and swear he had been faithful,at this point,who cares if he was or not?After the call from my mom,I went and locked all the doors in the house,I went and kissed my sisters on their foreheads and told them I loved them.I told my mom to be careful,and that I loved her. Now I sit in my mom's room typing this, my shoulder aches and my vision blurs, I want so much to cry but the tears never come.How can I sleep knowing that the person I care for the most is putting herself in this kind of position,all for her children?

- In memory of a man I now call a demented stranger
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