i woke strangely, the early morning sunlight slidng in through the window at an angle i rarely see these days...
something woke me, but i don't know what.
was it part of a dream?
the thoughts are vague in my sleepy mind, unsure of what i'm thinking. i lay still not ready to move, unsure of whether i even want to start the day or try to escape it by sleeping through as much as possible...
my nose itches. i reach up to scratch it and notice something dry and crusted under my fingers on the skin of my face
What the ----?
i sit up sharply, noticing a strange mark on my pillow, i examine it closely, something familiar about the whitish splattered looking mark that's dried and puckering the fabric but my mind hasn't quite reached the point of detailed thought yet.
my movement caught the attention of the dog whose now up on the bed licking my face saying good morning...
a short while later i'm on the deck with my coffee, trying to be quiet no to wake the ex-husband sleeping on the couch.
i feel troubled, but unsure as to why, trying to make sense of the thoughts swirling through my head on too few hours of sleep.
i 'm in the rocking chair, elbows on my knees i put my head in my hands and i watch the curtain of my un-brushed hair fall around the periphery of my sight while i stare at the chipping paint on my toenails.
go back to sleep, you're not ready to be awake yet, can't even drink your coffee...
i slide my hands through my hair as i sit up and they get stuck
there's something in my hair
a patch of something
i go to the bathroom but cant see the top of my head in the mirror, retrieving a comb i escape back to the deck, creeping quietly across the living room not to wake the snoring man, but wanting to throw a book at him all the same
i know what you did, you bastard
i sit and patiently comb the dried semen out of my hair, occaisonally stopping to vomit over the railing into the yard. feeling violated and stuck and condemded to hell
it's my own fault for letting him into my home, isn't it? i should call the police and report him, but crap, they wont do anything, not the cops around here, so what's the point. the last thing in the world i need is my son to wake up to police in the house...
and he denies it, like i'm an idiot. like some stranger climbed in my bedroom window and jacked off onto my hair, sure, sounds likely...
Fucking asshole!!!