After she had tucked me in that night I was left in the dark, alone once
again. I could hear her walk to her room and start crying. She cries a lot now, ever since her best friend was killed by
that drunk driver. I guess she feels a little alone and there is no one to turn to. Then again I kind of feel that way sometimes
too. The only real person that I could ever turn to, that could understand the pain I feel inside and out, was my sister.
She used to always dry my tears and chase away the monsters underneath my bed. Now a-days she's mostly hid away in her room
listening to some music or writing on her computer. She still has time for me and everything but, she doesn't really show
her feelings anymore. She almost hides them from the world, almost as if that will protect her from getting hurt again. Sure,
it makes her stronger, but if you think about it, if a person isn't strong enough to show their true feeling to another then
their not strong at all. Of course Billy has got her to open up and talk more, the sad thing is, is that he only knows half
of the truth.
One time I went into her room when she was at Billy's place. I just wanted
to know what she did in there, I mean it must get boring sometimes. Anyways, when I walked in I almost could feel the presence
of something evil. I sat down at her desk and went over some of the papers that were there, notes, lists of things,
band names, nothing really interesting until I came across a poem that she wrote a few days before.
I stop dead in my tracks,
I'm frozen with fear.
It's here again,
And its watching me
From the corner of the room.
I can't move to run away,
But just stare into it's eyes,
It's eyes of evil,
And of good.
It's here to take me away,
To set me free.
"I don't want to go!
You can't make me!" I scream,
But in the back of my mind,
I knew I was wrong.
I could run away all I want,
But in the end,
You can't escape death.
I didn't really know what to think about it at the time because, I myself
couldn't understand it. A part of me wanted to ask her about some of her poems, but then she would have known I was in her
room so I didn't say anything.
My thoughts and memories of the past were disturbed by the sound
of my father thrashing the door open while he came in. I could hear my sister approaching him with fear. As she did the sound
was followed by a series of load curse words, I think this was his way of asking where his supper was. Sara was begging him
to understand. I put my pillow over my head because I knew what was coming and I couldn't bear to listen to it one more time.
I shut my eyes and I slowly drifted away.
I was awakened a few hours later. Coming out for air, I lifted
the pillow off my head. Moments later after I did so, I could hear Sara mumbling to herself in the bathroom. I dared
to go in there and ask her what's wrong. I looked down the hall before I knocked on the door.
"Sara?" I wispered as I turned the knob and opened the door.