32
I lie under the blanket and try to sleep. I barely have the energy to lift my head when the man enters with food. But I force myself to eat, or he'll take my blanket and pillow away. We don't talk now. He stands and watches me eat. Turns and leaves the room with an empty plate. Returns with more, or to empty the bucket. No more Pop Tarts, wheat chips, or ice cream. The pizza replaced by bread covered with cheese spread.
One night he blurts something out. Making me jump. "You're off pizza and fries because you're getting fat."
I spit out a gloop of wet bread and cheese. "Problem solved," I say.
He cleans up the mess and takes my blanket. I try to hold onto it, fighting, screaming. But he's too strong. He tears it from my grip.
With the crow man gone, I pull the thin cotton cover off
