“May God rest his soul . . .”
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I watched as they lowered him into the ground, along with the secret that only I know. He was murdered you know?
I heard you coming up to my room, the stairs groaning under your weight. You beat on my door, an explosion of pain reminds me of the last time . . .
My window . . . I run to it. You storm in just as my leg rests on the roof. I’m yanked back in and thrown to the floor.
“What’s wrong Jake! Are you hiding from me!”
I feel the blow to my stomach, again, and again, and again! Puke creeps up my throat. Everything has gone black, and I feel the floor leave me. My head jerks- back, left, right . . . A million needles pierce my face. I can taste the blood.
I hit the floor . . . The knife . . . I feel it in my pocket. I see myself, my arm runs into your gut over, and over.
“Why won’t you die!”
You grab my hand and with two quick swipes my wrists are sliced. My head jerks up, you’re gone . . . white padded walls . . . a bed. I’m sprawled on the floor, and a line of pink puffy scar tissue is visible on my wrists.
I thought I got rid of you the first time . . . My old Man . . .
Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.