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His Laugh
October 17, 2011
Painful. The pain seizes all my senses leaving my mind and body a ruined wasteland in the wake of a war. However, this isn’t a regular war; salty staining tears replace the usual bloody scenes but the cries are all too real. My cries for help go unheard under the volume of his cackle. Unlike a dying soldier hopelessly gripping life with clenched fists reverently among his friends – I am alone. Alone in what seems like a war – it is a war and I am losing. Alone in the dark hallways of my home. Alone I submit to his laugh.
© Cerys W., Marblehead, MA
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