She had her dinner and walked up the stairs
To her room, then joined her palms in prayer.
She prayed using the same old words
“Father, help us all to love and care.”
She pulled the covers over her tiny self
And tried to hum herself to sleep.
She hummed her favourite nursery rhymes,
Twinkle Twinkle and Baa Baa Black Sheep.
She lay indecisively in bed,
Wanting to run into the arms of her Mommy.
Wanting to tell her she had a nightmare,
Wanting to tell her that nightmare’s Daddy.
She looked at the little copy of the Bible
Resting on her bedside drawer.
Ran her fingers lightly over the binded cover,
Remembered all the things Mommy had taught her.
“I don’t like Daddy anymore, Mommy.
He’s scary and angry all the time.” she whispered,
“Why don’t you tell me where you are, Mommy?
You told me to ask and I’d be answered.”
Her little eyes grew moist again,
But she kept right on talking.
“I’m asking you every night, Mommy.
Why don’t you answer, why aren’t YOU talking?!”
“Why were there doctors in our house?
You told me you weren’t going to be sick!
Why didn’t you eat your food, Mommy?
Why were you in bed, all of that week?”
“Where did they take you away, Mommy?
Why don’t you answer my calls anymore?
Are you angry with me? Or Daddy, Mommy?
Did he not take you to your favourite store?”
“I wash the dishes myself now, Mommy.
I water the flowers and make my bed.
I made a picture of you in class the other day.
Why can’t you come over to see it?”
“I don’t watch TV no more.
Daddy sold it away to a big fat man.
And I also saw him take some of your stuff
There’s a pendant there, bring it back if you can.”
“Daddy took the pendant from me, Mommy.
Now I can’t even look at you.
All I have is your memory, Mommy.
This house doesn’t have a single picture of you.”
“What did I do wrong, Mommy?
Daddy told me I was a mistake!
I really have been a good girl, Mommy
Believe me, I really try my best.”
She really couldn’t talk anymore,
She almost choked on her own salty tears,
She was tired of asking questions,
Of all her worries, all her fears.
The drunken man trudged into her room,
As sleep finally rested on her eyes.
She didn’t even squeak, as he squeezed her throat,
Unconscious to the end of her life.
The house was empty the next day,
Save the copy of the Bible on the bedside drawer.
And the moon returned to find a lonely space,
With no questions to ask and no need for answers.
The Obsessions Of The Compulsive Reader 