Sobs & Prayers

"There was only one rule: don’t open the door.”

Don’t open the door!

Don’t open the door!

That’s what mama was chanting. I’m in the hall, trembling and shaking. The warmth of me wetting my panties almost comforts me in this cold hallway.

Am I dreaming? I gotta be dreaming. It’s my own room. How’s mamma gonna tell me not to open the door. Why would she say that? Was she even talking to me or just rambling?

She looked like a lifeless zombie sitting, eyes watering in front of the television.

If it’s a dream, I’m in control right? I heard that you control what happens in your dreams.

My breath leaves moisture in the air, like I’m smoking. If I wasn’t so terrified it’d be cool. The hall smells musty, like mildew, mamas slacking on the cleaning again. I just need some sleep. I’m dragging myself down the hall, forcing every step. I hear myself breathing, and is that sobs?

I’m getting closer now. I see the door, mommas voice in my head.

Don’t open the door!

Gosh mama what craziness you talking, and why your face so empty, so dead. This whole place feels like it’s out a horror movie. Crusty green carpet, walls turning yellow.

I’m at the door, the sobs and cries are louder now, coming from behind the door. My body’s trembling, still wet with urine, or is that blood. This must be a nightmare. I gotta open the door and see. I hold my breath, hand shaking, I turn the knob.

Through tears, I see myself in bed trying to scream and fight, daddy’s over me with a pillow whispering shhh. I’m trying to kick, trying to break free. I go to scream, but nothing comes out- I pray I’m dreaming.