Hopeless

I’m sweating because it’s hot under these covers, but I don’t want to take them off my head. I know if the door opens, it won’t matter if I have covers on or not, but I feel safer with them on anyway. I poke my fingers out and lift the piece of cover up that’s in front of my eyes. I look at the doorknob like I do every night.

Don’t turn. Don’t turn. Please, don’t turn.

It’s always so quiet in my room and I hate it. Sometimes I hear things that I think might be the doorknob turning and it makes my heart beat really hard and really fast. Right now, just staring at the doorknob is making my heart beat really hard and really fast, but I can’t stop staring at it. I don’t want it to turn. I don’t want that door to open, I don’t.

Everything is so quiet.

So quiet.

The doorknob doesn’t turn.

My heart stops beating so fast, because the doorknob never turns.

My eyes get really heavy and I finally close them.

I’m so glad that tonight’s not one of the nights that the doorknob turns.

It’s so quiet.

So quiet.

And then it’s not, because the doorknob turns.