I've always been a big dreamer, a daydreamer mostly.
I'm quite sure that is why I wasn't the greatest of students.
Every report card from my youth said basically the same thing, Elizabeth likes to talk and daydream. She could and should be doing better.
Who cares about times tables or nouns when there are butterflies soaring and daffodils dancing right outside your classroom window?
Or in junior high, an interesting hairdo or lip gloss shade to try and dissect, sitting right in front of you????
Not me, that's for sure.
The dreams of my slumber are not nearly as calming or enchanting.
I'll never admit to being so whacked out that I dream about watching Abe Lincoln and a big beaver play chess...(ever see that commerical???)
So I'll say I mostly dream about real stuff.
Frozen with fear, a deer in the headlights.
I'm trapped like an animal in a cage.
Unable to escape.
The anticipation of the wait makes me squirm and I try to sink down low, low enough to be out of sight.
I wish to slip off my seat onto the floor where I can slither like a snake against the wall until I reach the door.
Then disappear completely and forever.
Out of the corner of my eye I see him preparing.
Blue gloves covering his hands, he's holding instruments of torture.
There is no turning back.
This man has hurt me before, plenty of times.
And I hate him.
My heart beats in my mouth and in my stomach, adrenalin is cursing through my veins like a speeding train threatening to blow through my fingers, which are tingling and trying to disappear into my sweaty palms.
I feel my nails making gouges in my skin, and for a second wonder why I let them get so long.
The self inflicted pain, I control.
The other, about to come, is his to control.
My chest is almost heaving, my breaths so rapid.
I try to quiet myself so my fear isn’t noticed.
I close my eyes and begin a Hail Mary.
“Open wide” the doctor says.
When I'm done he attempts to give me something to take my mind off the abuse.
A new purple toothbrush and a clean bill of dental health.
That's hardly worth the year of my life I lost anticipating, through nightmares, my visit with him.
Five and a half months from now the nightmare begins again.....