Sorry Sister

 April 1991

I have kept this one hidden for decades.  I didn't want it included in my book.  I felt it was too horrible to let others see into this darkness.  And it made me very anxious to read.  But it is part of my history, part of my story.  And now, at 53, I am ready to include it and remove the power it has held over me.  Shame holds power.  But not anymore.

 Sorry Sister

Silently sleeping . . . suddenly awake.

Who is that screaming?

It is my sister.

I hate it, hate it so much!

I can't listen.

It isn't real, it isn't happening.

Escape . . . go away . . . go to sleep.

Stop.  Please!

I have to help her.  Stop him!

Is she that bad?

Is he that horrible?

WHY?

Run to you . . . stop him.

Fear.

I can't.

Terror.

My heart is exploding.

Eyes wide open,

yet I see only darkness.

Mouth gaping wide,

but no sound from me.

Only desperate whispers

that no one hears. 

My pillow soaks up my tears,

and muffles my cries,

but not yours.

I am so sorry, sister.

I can't move.

I can't help you.

I love you, 

I do.

Silence . . . sleep.

Tomorrow is another normal day.