Oddly, I feel better. Objectively, nothing has changed. I’m still here, incarcerated in the dark, my life hanging on the whim of a psychotic.
And yet… yes, I feel better; cleansed almost.
Perhaps I needed that. The catharsis. The release.
My body knows something I don't? At least, at the conscious level…
Something just happened, and I need to pay attention.
Always listen to your body.
How often have I ever wept?
Very rarely. My tears dried up long ago. Or so I thought…
‘Where is she? Where's your mother?’
The little boy drops his head, tears trickling. ‘I don’t like Mommy any more.’
‘What? What the f**k’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Mommy went to sleep. She won't wake up and talk to me. I want her to tell me a story and she won’t. And she's gone all black.’
I shake my head. My mot
