When I was nine, I woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe I had a nightmare or something. I don't remember now. But the monster was there.
No, not him. My-- well.
He said he and mom were going out for a walk in the woods, and I should think hard about the guy with no face and hope he would come and take me away. For a while I wanted the man with no face to take me away because I was scared. I was a little kid. What else do you do? You think about being kidnapped. Running away. Getting away. I did. Fuck him, right.
That's what you spend all your childhood doing, then you grow up, and life moves on. Life was supposed to move on. And I never saw the man without the face when I was a kid, never, not even when my dad told me to. I'd pretend to because he wanted it, but I never did. Why am I here? Why won't he leave me alone?
He said they were going for a walk in the woods, and she never came back. I wonder if that's what they'll say about me? Went to sleep, and never came back.