Aiden - Portrait

Two men entered and I thought I was dreaming.

I heard the sounds of what were laughter.

And expected the door to slam off the hinges.

The dark initiates my fear and I tell myself nothing can hurt me.

Nothing can hurt me.

The blanket weighs 300 pounds pinning me on my stomach.

Although my eyes are open, I see nothing but a spiraling glow that radiates an alarm clock on a nightstand.

Hands are gripping me.

The sheets are twisted, I'm suffocating.

I smell nail polish.

I picture my mother out in the gardenon a spring day planting new strawberry seeds.

The earth aroma as she turns the soil lingers.

And I imagine my life as a princess.

Nothing can hurt me.

It's 5:47 a.m. and the sun looks as though it's just about to defeat the night sky.

A battle between good and evil that rages on through centuries unnoticed.

My nightgown is tangled above my hips.

I went to sleep with panties on and I smell blood.

My breasts are exposed and sore.

One of them has bite marks.

Blinding light from the bathroom crushes my eyes.

I try to stand up and the weight of the world buckles my knees.

Nothing can hurt me.

The dawn breaks and this veil I carry around for secrecy is about to melt.

Something inside my veins explode.

And I realize I'm not looking at a portrait now.

We are all living in it.