My mother’s boyfriend is at our house.  

He is drunk. 

He is always drunk. 

My mother is not home. 

She is at work. 

She won’t be home until morning. 

I am very nervous about this. 

I am lying in my bed. 

I am trying to fall asleep. 

I can hear him. 

He is coming towards my room, 

I am scared. 

I don’t want him to come into my room. 

My bedroom door opens and I know that he is there. 

I pretend to be asleep. 

I hear the wooden floor boards creak as he gets closer to my bed. 

He does not belong in here. 

I want him to leave. 

He sits down on my bed. 

I am terrified. 

Why is he here? 

I am very still. 

I keep my eyes closed. 

I want him to leave. 

Please, just let him leave. 

I am holding my breath. 

He puts his hand on my ass. 

I need to get out of here. 

I can’t move. 

I am frozen with fear. 

There is no one here to help me. 

I can feel his hand. 

I feel dirty. 



I want to die. 

He moves his hand. 

He gets up. 

He leaves my room. 

I let out a breath, but I’m still afraid. 

Where did he go? 

Will he be back? 

I am too afraid to sleep. 

I watch the flashing light coming from a nearby radio station on the dark paneling walls of my bedroom. 

I lie there, allowing myself to be mesmerized by the flashing lights and I wait. 

And wait.  

And wait. 

 It is morning. 

I know my mother will be home soon. 

I wait some more. 

I hear my mother’s car pull into the driveway of our row home. 

Finally, I know he will not be back. 

I should tell my mother, but I don’t. 

I do not tell her because I have already been well trained. 

When these things happen, we do not tell.