The four of us
sat there,
watching Donnie Darko.
"Anyone want popcorn?"
he asks us.
The other two
shook their heads.
"I do, I do!"
I squeal, thinking
about the melting
salty, buttery, paper-like
texture crunching
between my teeth.
My stomach growls.

"They're stoned out there."
he informs us.
My heart stops.
I put the blanket and pillow
over my head.
I feel like a five-year-old
hiding from lightening
and thunder.
My body twitches
as two men
in a stoned stupor
enter the room.
"I'm so fucking stoned."

"Let's get out of here."
He tells me.
We run out the door.
I fall to the cement,
and I slide my arm
across the cement,
hoping to draw blood.
I feel his fingers curl
around my shoulders.
I cry out in pain
as he thrusts me up
and sets me on my feet.
"Sarah," he says.
"Sarah," he pleads.
"What's wrong?"
I start running across
the field. The grass hurts
my feet and I feel
dirt entering my sandals.

"Sometimes I think
it won't catch me!"
I scream at the top of my lungs.
My body moves faster
and faster. I drop to the ground
and lay there
and stare at the stars.
He drops next to me.
"What won't catch you?"
he asks me.
"Life,"
I reply.
 
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