Losing Oneself

             Emily sat on the old window seat. She watched outside the window as rain poured outside, blotting out the sky and blurring the sight of the forest outside of the house. She didn’t find the key in his clothes and the lock on the door still stayed firmly shut.

             She couldn’t figure out a plan of what she could do to avoid everything falling apart. Emily couldn’t wake the twit up because when he drank, he slept like he was dead. She wasn’t sure if he’d remember what he did to her. Emily wasn’t sure if he understood the position. He put so much into it with his wants and actions. She needed to resist the urge now to shift and bite him on the butt. He deserved at least that, if not more. Time passed, and she wasn’t sure how much. By now, it didn’t matter. Everyone would know they were missing