• IS THERE?

    I’m waiting for you, always waiting. With the blood pouring down, stains on my clothes. The infection is there, I can feel it spreading as I continue to wait. Waiting for you.

    I know you’re there, I can sense it. But why don’t you come see why I’m here? Are you ignoring me? Are you angry at me? What did I do?

    I keep my eyes fixed to your front door until finally it opens and you rush out to me, pulling me into your arms as my legs begin to quiver.

    You fall to your knees, pushing my hair out of my face. I look up at you, my eyes half closed. I’m so sleepy... Why am I so sleepy?

    You keep hitting me... Not hard, but you keep hitting me. Why are you doing that? I try to bat your hand away but all I feel is pain and I begin to cry.

    You wipe away the tears, leaning down and kissing me gently. I can hear the dull beeping of your phone before you start talking into it.

    Why are you doing that? I’m here; you should be paying attention to me. You sound scared too, why are you scared? Everything’s fine, there’s nothing to be scared about.

    Is there?