I was out shopping with Nathalie, the day was as any other, people crowding, sun shining. She was right there with me, right next to me, never more than a step away. Then suddenly gone. Nowhere to be found. I ran down the streets, looking, asking around. Nowhere to be found. A stranger with a familiar face told me to look in the window a couple of floors up in a grey concrete building.
There she was. Standing in the window, with her tiny little hands on the big glass separating her from the world. Nothing on but a worn out diaper. With an empty, mindless look in her eyes. It had given up, it wasn't there. She wasn't there. I ran, faster then my heart could beat, up, up, up. Opened the door. He was at the back of the room, and I grabbed her, held her. She held her arms around my neck, never leting go. Never again. He was slow, really slow. He couldn't catch up. But I couldn't run, couldn't escape. I screamed, my voice broke into a million pieces.
Then I ran. Met his friend in the stairs, he told me it was too late. He had allready taken what wasn't his to take. It was allready broken. She would never get it back. He had raped her, over and over and over again. Nothing was whole, nothing was left to salvage. A week, that's how long she had been gone. Yet, to me, only a few minutes had past. A week, that's how long he had owned her, mutilated her, taken her from me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't stop. He had left the diaper on, so she wouldn't make a mess on the floor. It was all broken, nothing to hold her inside from coming out. I didn't want to see, didn't want to look.
He had taken her from me. She was nowhere to be found. Lost to the world, an empty look in the most beautiful eyes the world has ever seen. Right there in my arms. Nowhere to be found.
This is what I dreamt, three nights ago. I dreamt it so vividly it could just aswell have been broadcasted on the TV. It all added up, no loose ends, every little detail so perfect, so complete. And I keep seing her in that window, with her hands against the glass. Waiting for me to come. Waiting to be saved, waiting for the end.
There she was. Standing in the window, with her tiny little hands on the big glass separating her from the world. Nothing on but a worn out diaper. With an empty, mindless look in her eyes. It had given up, it wasn't there. She wasn't there. I ran, faster then my heart could beat, up, up, up. Opened the door. He was at the back of the room, and I grabbed her, held her. She held her arms around my neck, never leting go. Never again. He was slow, really slow. He couldn't catch up. But I couldn't run, couldn't escape. I screamed, my voice broke into a million pieces.
Then I ran. Met his friend in the stairs, he told me it was too late. He had allready taken what wasn't his to take. It was allready broken. She would never get it back. He had raped her, over and over and over again. Nothing was whole, nothing was left to salvage. A week, that's how long she had been gone. Yet, to me, only a few minutes had past. A week, that's how long he had owned her, mutilated her, taken her from me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't stop. He had left the diaper on, so she wouldn't make a mess on the floor. It was all broken, nothing to hold her inside from coming out. I didn't want to see, didn't want to look.
He had taken her from me. She was nowhere to be found. Lost to the world, an empty look in the most beautiful eyes the world has ever seen. Right there in my arms. Nowhere to be found.
This is what I dreamt, three nights ago. I dreamt it so vividly it could just aswell have been broadcasted on the TV. It all added up, no loose ends, every little detail so perfect, so complete. And I keep seing her in that window, with her hands against the glass. Waiting for me to come. Waiting to be saved, waiting for the end.
The dream was just a dream, but the fear will never let go. The fear is real. It's real. Never let go. Mommy, never let me go.
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