A childhood memory.
|I play happily with my dolls
marveling at the miniature life they live as a beam of white dusty light shines on my unmade bed.
The sound of broken glass and screams sharp as a knife pull me from my imagination. My heart knocks on my chest in warning that something is amiss.
The last thing I remember is hiding in my closet facing the wall, trying to be invisible to the uninvited guest in our home and then everything goes silent.
My safe place didn't feel safe anymore,
My safe place didn't feel safe anymore.