Feet against the ground, knees to the floor, shaking hands to my face. Small, powerless. Trembling.
"Please" I croak, voice full of pitiful fear as it runs thickly down my throat, burning in my chest and stomach as it settles.
Silent steam
Ebbing my muscles which twitch under my skin.
Calluses lift my chin, the places they've touched sear beneath my clothes, branding themselves to my bones. His words are a low quiet hiss, like a snake in the dark of the grass, winding up to strike.
"Don't you understand? I'm helping you. Stop slobbering. Men don't cry and they don't cower. Get up." My legs feel numb.
The punch that accompanies my stillness slices through the tingling humming of the cicadas, it splits the heavy air sitting around the house. My head falls to the floor like a weight. I wish it would tumble away from my shoulders. But sadly it just thuds dully and jostles my scampering thoughts.
Tears slip down my cheeks, plinking lightly against the wooden floor. The hands snatch at my shoulders once more, yanking my frame from the floor and trapping my heaving chest against the wall.
Shadow lurking over me.
Someone standing in the darkness. She looks blurry. Everything fuzzy and distorted through the moisture of my eyes. Underwater. Sounds are soft and muffled, the sharpness of shapes sanded down the messy edges. Just run. Run. Run. Run. I push using whatever strength I have, fingers splayed against the inky black. My weight drops heavily on my legs, but I begin to stumble away before I can fall again.
I pull myself along the thin walls of the skinny hallway, and shove myself into the dusk. My bare feet hitting cool dirt and wet grass.
My lungs welcome the air as it filters out the poison. Fog hugs its curling tendrils around the edge of the forest. I can feel the dark filling up the space behind me, pushing up against my spine.
So I run. Run. Run. Run.
