I Pray To God My Soul To Take

Their soft hands and warm touch engulf both my hands gently. It is as if they thought they would shatter my cold skinny fingers. They are careful around the bruising and blood, making sure to cause me no more pain the I have already endured. Though their touch is soft and gentle, it makes me feel secure and safe. After all of this, I'm glad to have a feeling other than fear and sadness.

Me, I am different in our mutual hold. I hold their hands, treating them as the life boat in my ocean of blood boiling fear. Not giving them the option to leave, like if I let go they'll slip out of my grasp. I look them in their eyes, they're full of pain. I'd assume they had seen a lot of thing in his past, since they are an FBI agent.

" I am scared." I say barely above a whisper. My voice cracks and my dry throat burns every syllable. I can't move, the pain is metaphorically paralyzing. To my surprise a single tear falls down my cheek, a single stream.

Their strong arms scoop me up, bridal style. One arm supporting my back the other under my bruised knees. Do I feel odd that a attractive person is holding me and I'm practically naked? No, in the moment I didn't. In that moment all I wanted to do was die, and so I did. At least I think I did. My eyes flutter shut and I fall limp in their arms.

<3