His Reverie
“Of brimstone and hellfire. Of Reverend Hale standing behind a pulpit, pounding his fist so hard the wood shook and I was afraid it would splinter into tiny pieces with the force of his blows.
He was yelling at me. Screaming at me. His face red, his voice booming as he threatened me for touching his daughter. He grew and I shrunk. Until it felt like he was ten feet tall and I was about five years old.
You’re vagrant filthy scum! Keep your disgusting hands off my daughter!
Those words...—or a variation of them—were slung at me again and again. Until I was nodding in agreement, until I promised him I wouldn’t touch her. I wouldn’t so much as look at her.
I wake up drenched in sweat, my heart racing, my phone lit up as a text message comes in. It’s two in the damn morning. Who the hell would text me?
Grabbing my phone, I check it.
Krista. Of course.MoreLess
He was yelling at me. Screaming at me. His face red, his voice booming as he threatened me for touching his daughter. He grew and I shrunk. Until it felt like he was ten feet tall and I was about five years old.
You’re vagrant filthy scum! Keep your disgusting hands off my daughter!
Those words...—or a variation of them—were slung at me again and again. Until I was nodding in agreement, until I promised him I wouldn’t touch her. I wouldn’t so much as look at her.
I wake up drenched in sweat, my heart racing, my phone lit up as a text message comes in. It’s two in the damn morning. Who the hell would text me?
Grabbing my phone, I check it.
Krista. Of course.MoreLess
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