There is this thing that comes in the night. It grabs a hold of me holds tight won't let me go... It's cold hateful It hates me. It tells me why. It tells me how. I am so afraid. How can I not be? When there is nothing but this thing in the darkness in the night I'm alone all alone and cold, shaking, cold from the inside out from the thing that has a hold of me What is it? What is it called? What is it's name? It doesn't tell me.. It fills me with fear, terror, It holds me captive, I cannot escape.
I am always alone when it comes. Always helpless against it. It comes when I least expect it. When I have almost forgotten, pushed the memories away I though I was protected. I thought it was gone. Forever. But, I was, wrong. So, So, WRONG.
And then it came. Alone this time, after so long, it had lost the power to bring others It brought the fear, it brought the ice the loneliness. I lay, curled alone on the bed, helpless. Unable to speak, unable to move, barely able to breath.
'Why? Why now? Please, please not here. Not now.' I pleaded, knowing my cries fell on sadistic ears, that reveled in my pain. It didn't matter. I didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Just like All the times Before.