You dream it. The day you shall wake and here and everything that came with it will be long gone. I watch you scrub your body with hopes that once the waters come rushing down promises and oaths will join in. But no.
They are here. In your face. In class. In your sleep. In your mind. Laughing and making those faces, the type your aunt made. That face that left you loathing marriage and avoiding female babies, dreading them because… because of what her face said. You are a monster. So, you know these ones shall not go away, that a decade from now they’d still be in your sleep. Alive and well like your aunt’s face. Roaming the streets of your mind. Sometimes chasing you up and down the borders of sanity.
One time, they chased you and cornered you. Then you started seeing things. Things only you saw. Things only you saw. Things only you could explain and they are back. Wearing the face of your aunt. I hope you sleep tonight. I hope you sleep tonight. I hope you… I hope you write a story about here. How it will kill you soon. How it’s choking you. Tell them her hands are on you. Poor dramatist. Hehe. But I like you. I like you a tiny bit. Enough to help you though.
Look, I’ll tell you this but promise not to tell anyone. I know how to make you sleep. The good kind. The kind you never wake up from. Would you like that? Tell me. Tell me, Young warrior…. The Lion, they call you, ehn? You sure wanna rest from all that fighting, yes? I’ll be here. Beside your bed. I don’t like it…
