it's not titled.

author's note: this is just a ten minute free write. might do something with it, might not. who cares? not me, not now. it's not titled.

You told me to lay my head down in the blackest of rooms. I told you I didn't trust you to keep the monsters away. You switched on the nightlight and asked if that made it better. I shook my head and the tears running down my face flew off to the sides. You sighed, but there was nothing but concern in your eyes as your brain worked through all the possibilities to make me sleep. I saw it there, but I pretended I didn't because I was still scared and didn't want you to leave. And somehow you knew that, so you came and sat on the bed and gave me a smile. I couldn't smile back, but I wanted to. You would smile for me if you could is what you said and then you said you'd stay until I fell asleep. I told you I wouldn't be able to, that the shadows were stalking me. And you gave me a look, some mixture of pity and worry and told me that they couldn't stalk me. They were just shadows. And besides, the whole room is shadows when there is no light. I wouldn't know the difference. And I told you I would. You kicked off your shoes and laid down beside me. Your arms found their way around my frame and our bodies fit together, my head against your chest, cradled by you. And I sighed. Because it felt so safe. And I forgot the shadows were waiting outside your embrace. But you didn't. So you stayed until my breathing evened, and even after. You didn't want the monsters to get me either. But you knew they would eventually. You tried to hold them off that night, and many nights after. But they got me anyway. And now I wish you didn't have to know that. I wish you didn't know you failed.