I have a friend that lives on her own. She was coming back home on her convertible around 8 pm a few nights ago and he attacked her with a knife, inside her own garage. She couldn’t scream, or move or do anything about it. She thought she was gonna die.

She had never seen him before. He was there for a reason she never got to know. And now he is with her all the time. In her thoughts. In her dreams. Over her shoulder when she hears a noise. In the pills she takes to make him go away. In the food she is throwing up every time she tries to eat. He is diluted in her tears. And she says she can feel him on her skin better than she can ever remember feeling any lover. And every time someone tries to touch her, she can only think of him.

She doesn’t know how to make him go away. She is scared. She is scared of the drugs, the drinks and all the other easy way outs. She is scared of being alone. She is scared of not being able to be alone anymore. She is scared of her reactions with other people. She is scared because she wishes he would have done it.

And she doesn’t want anyone to know how she feels, so she can’t blog it herself.