I stand in front of my mirror and undress.
I try to avoid his gaze as he stands behind me, his hands gripping my shoulders, keeping me in my place.
His cool breathe grazes my neck but I don’t move.
Nothing he does makes me shiver anymore.
His hand skims down my arm and with his fingers around my wrist, he leads me to bed.
We slip under the covers and even though the room is filled to the brim with a heavy darkness I can feel his empty eyes staring at me intently.
“You’re not afraid of me anymore.”
The disappointment in his voice is unsettling.
“No,” I whisper in reply. “How can I stay afraid when you’ve forced me to grow accustomed to you?”
And he knows I’m right.
Even my bed has accepted the invasion of privacy.
Even my bed has given up and given in to him, caving in and forming an indent in the shape of him.
I turn my back to him hoping he’ll let me sleep, even if it’s just for a little while.
But he knows me well and let’s out a chuckle.
“Oh sweetheart did you actually think I would leave you alone tonight? They don’t call me Loneliness for nothing.”
I can hear the nasty smile in his voice.
The bed creaks and the blanket ruffles as he pulls me closer.
And again he violates my peace, my mind, my heart.
In the morning my alarm goes off but my eyes are already open. Loneliness gets up and stretches. “See you again tonight?”
Even though he knows the answer I nod, because he will see me again tonight.
And the next and the next