A silent night with distant screams, she swore someone must have heard her pleas. But still her nightmare stumbles through the door filled with rage and grief and more. One drunken step from side to side, and in this moment she tries to hide. A day filled up with laughs and light has transformed into a dreadful night. His voice bellows from outside her door words slurred together, fright restored. She can smell the whiskey and *** on his breath and so she leans down and prays for death. She knows too well what is coming next: one more bruise along her neck. Some children collect coins and silver dollars, while she keeps these bruises around her collar. A prized collection, he takes much pride in leaving his mark and leaving her to cry. People asked about the shadows on her arms and face, but she covered them well with linen and lace. It's been five years since this all began and she can't bring herself to trust a single man. His presence still haunts her, even though he's "changed" nothing can erase those hits exchanged. Her will to live is now slipping slowly, why should she live in a world so lonely? So the girl who cried out for help that time now sits alone and makes these rhymes, quietly waiting on her time to die.