Eyes stared from every shadow of the room while invisible hands pinned me to the bed. I fell asleep in tears of terror and silent screams that night.
‘Say ah’, he said, forcing splinters from the tongue press through my flesh. That pool of blood merits my fear of dentists.
There was both giggling and whimpering around me. I glared at the mirror and saw that it was I that was both appalled and delighted at the dismembered bodies littering the floor.
The old saying tells us ‘home is where the heart is’. My love for her tells me my home is six feet under.
As a child they told me, ‘You’re worth more than them’ – but back then I only slit the throats of animals. When they told me I was worth more than my family, I questioned it for a second before we plunged the knife.
The sound of the blade crawling over his stubble reminded me of sharpening pencils when I was young. Then the sound of slicing sweet plums.
In the dead of night there was always movement behind the curtain. Yes, the windows were always open all night, but I bolted them every night before going to bed.