C17 17

DAMIAN

She is right there in the darkness when I close my eyes, crying, waiting on me in that silk nightdress. What was a head full of curls is now matted with grease and decline.

Like the previous, I dash into our bedroom and skid to a halt when she turns away from the window. The stream of moonlight casts a deathly glow on her pale skin marred by self-inflicted bruises