bedtime is my favorite part of the day… a time for dark, quiet, tenderness as she rocks me in the chair, humming softly. her hand gently pats my back to the beat of her heart. nuzzled in the nape of her neck, i can smell the sweet scent of her that surrounded me all those months while i was in her womb. it is that scent that i can sometimes still smell on my blanket when she’s not near me.
but tonight, something is different.
there is no rocking, no patting… no her. she just places me down, alone in this crib. what happened? what’s wrong? i’m scared… where is she going? terrified, i watched as she walks towards the door, her figure growing smaller, but my panic rising up in my throat. the door is only shut for a few seconds before i cannot contain it within me anymore. she must’ve made a mistake. this isn’t how we do bedtime. i let forth a cry, knowing that she’ll be right back for me. she’ll hold me, pat me, love me.
but it doesn’t work.
why isn't she coming? i cry out louder and louder. and still she stays behind that door. the cold darkness closes in on me as i wail so loud, my throat burns. my little heart races as my mind struggles to figure out why i am alone.
i need her.
i need her arms.
i need her smell.
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