I remember the sound of breaking bones that drew me towards the door,

My ears rested heavy, pushing myself close enough to feel them crack,

How cold it was, a July afternoon,

I allowed my ears act as glue so I wouldn’t miss anything,

And there it was,

Her hands pleading for the door to open, engulf her whole and separate the two

Hunter and hunted.

I opened, to allow my mother in, help her find refuge in my space, 

Her face was plastered to the ground, 

She laid there still as though she’d stopped breathing, 

An entity of bones and purple flesh, she was a rainbow of love and sad lies….,

His voice beating at the door, shouting commands at it,

Open!

I heard him sing it like sirens,

Open! 

I replay it in my head,

Open!

My mother’s head rose from the air, past her shoulders and our eyes met, 

Right eye; blood red, completely immersed in fear

The other; a black halo of discolouration served with swelling and little vision

Hung justly in it’s socket

Her face was the flood gates of heaven,

It was drenched, 

Her skin now resembled a bloody puddle where his hands came to play,

I still hear her breaths, how they escaped from her ajar lips

Screaming at me to look away, but who was she to echo demands in the plea of her words 

She was now playing for survival, 

I mirrored her actions, 

My eyes chased the corners, edge to edge, of the door,

Her saviour, 

It stood strong dividing her from being divided,

Though I knew eventually those arms, weak, brittle,

Attached to her body with casts,

Would give in, would give up and tire out like she had,

Nothing!

This word, his favourite,

Nothing!

She was becoming.