Footsteps

Ceiling pressing down,
crushing me under the screaming,
the thunder of his steps.

thump THUMP thump THUMP.

Dear God, now I lay me down to...

thump THUMP thump THUMP

He walked in the door,
found our shoes not straight,
books sitting on the stairs.
Where did I leave my lunch kit?

"How many times have I told you stupid fucking kids to keep your god damned crap away from the back door?"

I should know better.

Dear God, teach me to be better.

Sick feeling
pressing down,
squeezing me between his steps
and the rabbit racing,
kicking, screaming
in my chest.

thump THUMP thump THUMP

Dear God, please let that be the end.
Please, let him go outside.

Screaming echoes,
muffled by the new tile in the kitchen --
mustn’t wear shoes in the kitchen --
by joices, by gyprock.
The light dangling from the ceiling
jumps as something hits
the tile and smashes.
Oh no, the new tile . . .

"Who fucking left that there? Kim! Fucking god damn! Stupid little bitch!"

Thump THUMP thump THUMP

Got to run.
Got to escape until
he stops,
and the rabbit screams louder.

Dear God, let me make it to the back door.

Short steps to my door . . .
Too late.
The top step creaks.

Dear God, help me find some place to hide.

thump THUMP thump THUMP

Slam the door,
run to the closet.
He took off the doors.
Darkness within, the hard corners
of the shoes, digging in.
No sanctuary here.

thump THUMP thump THUMP

Heart kicks,
racing with the rabbit,
surely it can’t beat so fast
and not stop.

Dear God, please . . .

THUMP

The landing . . .

thump THUMP thump

The bottom step . . .

Silence.

Fumbling with the window latch
sealed shut,
and I am too fat,
but maybe . . .

Dear God, let me get it open.

Searching, eyes darting.
Can’t get under the bed,
it’s built to the floor.
No hiding places allowed.

A burrow . . .
rabbit clawing,
scrambling to get out,
to find safety.

Maybe he isn’t coming.
Maybe he went to the coat room.
Maybe . . .

Dear God, please let him have left.

Door knob turns,
rabbit fighting,
biting through my insides.
The world spins with the knob.
Silence falls, darkness closes,
to that two inch diameter.

Dear God, I need an idea.

Rabbit eaten by bear
for a split second.
Racing to the door,
slam my back against it
as it opens.
Keeps it shut for a moment.

Dear God, give me the strength.

"If you don’t open this door right now you little piece of shit . . ."

Impact, throw back,
run around the bed,
staring, heart stopped,
breath forgotten.

Dear God, please make it a dream.
Please make it all a dream.
Let me wake somewhere happy.
Let me wake somewhere safe.
Let me wake to a family that loves me.

"You stupid, fucking cunt. How dare you . . ."

Hands close about my throat.
Thrown on the bed,
weight pressing down.
Pain fading.

There is no God.