I'm peering up into the sky. The sun is shining and the scent of rain in lingering on my tongue. Sun drops. If rain falls and the sun catched the tears up at just the right time, it will create sundrops. If I can catch some sundrops on my tongue, then maybe I can feel better. Maybe I can have a miracle. Maybe. Then I can run through the field so fast and so far that my feet will learn to fly. I'll go over the bridge, up the hill, down the street and keep on going. My mother is calling to me now. I close my eyes. Inside my stomach the secrets are churning and twisting and turning. She puts her hand on my shoulder and asks me what is wrong. I turn against that hand like an enemy, because no matter how much love she gives, she still couldn't save me from the Beast of the Night. The Beast lurks on innocence. I was just a baby. He didn't think I could possibly remember what he was doing to me, but I feel all of the things that I don't know. My heart speaks to me. My mind whispers. Remember! Remember! Remember! The tears slide down my face. I can't. I can't remember anything, and that makes me a failure, and not only that. It makes me a liar. Who belives a kid? Who believes a crazy who can't recall whether or not it happened? I feel it though. I feel it deep down inside. I jump. I feel it all over my body no matter how much I scorch and scrub the skin. It stays with me. I'm....haunted. But, maybe there is hope. Maybe there is gain. Maybe if I pray, or scream, or cry. Maybe if I wait long enough for the rain to bury up my pain and burn the inside away, maybe I can be good again. Maybe I could have a chance. Maybe. Rain.
November 30, 2010