Looking at me with those glazed eyes. Your face is set.

“What are you playing at?” you ask me.

“Nothing,” I stammer. Your eyes are possessed and you standing over me. You have something clutched in you had but your holding it behind you so I can’t see it. You threaten me. Again.

At this point, you pin me against the wall and slam you hands against it too, making a barrier with your arms. You shout. I’m terrified and you see it. I know you do.

Spit is foaming at your mouth, your eyes bulge and your face is red. I can see the veins throbbing.

You grab my shoulders and shake me, daring me to scream. I don’t and you still yell. You slap me in the face and throw me to the ground. I hear something crack but I can’t tell if it was me or the dry wall I fell against. I look up at you and I notice now what you were holding. A wrench. You step in front of me, casting a shadow over me.

I see you. You’re standing there. Everyone is crying but not you. No, not you. My mom is weeping with the rest of my family. My brothers are looking at “me” but not you. You’re sitting away from everyone, silent. Your face is blank. You feel me though. I know you do. You look up at “me” and a single tear falls. My mother gets up and runs to where “I” am laying. “I” don’t respond. “I” can’t and you know why.

You get up, walk out and run away from my funeral.