I sleep in the night and peace is with me. My mom is working. At six pm to six am. I'm not home. At a friend of my mom's house. Not too strange. Slept here, in this bed before. An acquaintance in the bed nest to mine, his mom a few rooms over. The t.v. is off now, I'm almost asleep. So close, just a little bit longer. Someone opens the door. I'm awake in an instant. Don't move. Maybe I can still sleep. Maybe he won't notice. If I move, I have to get up, I have to speak, be alive. This way, I'm dead and nothing changes. He comes towards my bed. His footsteps are heavy. Not the boy. He didn't just get up after all. I feel a hand on my stomach. A calloused hand, a man's hand. Strange. I'm twelve, I've never felt this before. At least not recently, and never like this. The light moves towards me. Shines on me. A flashlight? A camera? The boy isn't awake. Doesn't he see this? The man shouldn't be here. This place isn't for him. A groan and roll over, dislodging the hand. In the process, I pull the covers up. They cover my chest now. That wasn't right. It felt strange. I didn't like it. It scared me. The man lowers the light. He doesn't want to wake me. What would happen if I did wake? For some reason, I think it would be bad for both of us. He leaves, his purpose gone. The nest morning, I think molestation and I'm scared. I'm twelve years old, and I'm gifted. I'm twelve years old, and I'm cursed. I'm maturing too fast.