You sit up straight. You are bathed in sweat. You breathe heavily. You look around. You stare at the shadows on the wall. You wish you could turn back the clock. You wish you could make the darkness go away. You lay back down, still. You count the shapes that drift across the ceiling until you fall back into sleep.

You wake up at two thirty nine.

You are shaking. You remember His hands. You can hear His voice. You can feel His touch. You think you are helpless. You are scared of the night. You are scared of your dreams.

He is there. He is watching you. He breathes down your neck. He follows you. He invades your sleep. He makes tears fall slowly down your cheeks. He hurts you day after day after day.

You get out of bed. You stumble outside. You smoke a cigarette. You cry. You pick paint chips off your balcony. You pet your dog. You stare at the moon. You go back inside. You crawl into bed. You shiver under your comforter until you sleep.

You wake up at three eighteen.

He is there. He is right behind you. He steps on your toes as you stagger to the kitchen. He drinks your tea and adds honey. He slides his hands down your arms. He makes you tremble. He makes you cry.

You feel your way into the bathroom. You throw up. He is still there. He holds your hair back. He puts His hand on the back of your neck. You can't get Him to go away. You put on your thickest nightgown. You think you can hide in your dreams.

You wake up at four forty three.

You are restless. You stumble to your living room. You decide it needs rearranging. You move your sofa. You move your chair. Your pictures are crooked. You move it all back.

He follows you. He instructs you what to do. He guides your days. He guides your nights. He guides your life. He tells you to go back to sleep. You do.

You wake up at five fifty seven.

You brush your teeth. You take a shower. You eat. You pet your dog. He is there. He tells you your shirt is on backwards. He fixes the tag.

You tell Him to go away. You tell Him to leave you alone. You tell Him to stay out of your life. You push him away.

You sit down to write. You write and write and write. Your pen is dry. Your words are tired. He is fading. You go back to bed.

You wake up at seven o one.

You think He is gone. You are wrong. He hides in the corners of your room. He laughs at you. He drinks your alcohol. He takes you for a car ride. He holds you down. He ignores your pleas. He calls you names. He scratches your wrists. He draws your blood. He doesn't say He is sorry.

You fight Him. You fight Him because you are stronger. You know He is fading with every word. You write and write and write.

You know that one day He will be gone for good.

~ontheoutside