They keep trying to pull the book out of her hand as she cries, ‘no, please, I need to keep reading.’
If she stops reading the demons of the real world would swallow her into the darkest corners of herself.
They don’t get it.
Spasms of unrelenting misery assault my body. Wreaking havoc with its unsympathetic weapons created for ministrations of torture. My attacker mercilessly holds me captive in my own frame. A prisoner to a biological and physical default with no key to unshackle me. My own body believes me to be beyond redemption, accusing me of crimes I have not committed. Unbending when it comes to compassion, it enforces unjust punishments upon me…
“Can I tell you about my dream?”
A woman smiled, as she put her hand on her stomach, “Sure!”
The child ran to her mother, eyes glistening with tears. The woman’s body tensed, and her fingers twitched to move the child away from her. She bit the inside of her cheek, ignoring the blood pooling in her mouth.