Hiding

.

I'm hiding. I'm hiding under a table... Or a desk... Or a blanket. It doesn't matter. I'm hiding so you don't know where I am. So I'll be safe. It quiet. It's dark. I'm afraid but not of either of those things. I'm afraid to move. I'm afraid to be seen. I know it's dark, but I also know that that doesn't mean anything to you. So now I'm hiding. I'm hiding from you.

I'll wait. I'll stay here and let the darkness swallow my breath. I'll let it absorb the sound or my frantic heart screaming in my chest. I'll let it crush me in exchange for a place to hide from you. I don't want to be here. I want to come out and run. I want to leave, but I can't. I'm hiding from you.

I wonder how long this will last. I wonder how long I will last. My every muscle cries for movement but I can't. You won't let me. I'll stay here, and I'll let the darkness eat me. I'll let myself be consumed entirely because it's better. Under this table or desk or blanket I'll stay. Alone. Afraid.

I guess in a way I'm not alone. You're the monster under the bed or in the closet. You're the nightmares in my sleep and the shadows I never quite see. You're the crying and the screaming. You're everywhere. I can't avoid you forever, but that's never stopped me. That's never stopped anyone. So I'll hide. I'll hide from you, and I'll be alone. Though not really. Are you hiding alone if everyone else is hiding too? Maybe not. Then yes, I'm hiding, but I'm not alone. We're hiding from you.

But you won't find us.