The Child (FInal Version)

[Lawrence]

There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
They still haven’t found the child.

He is curled up under a mattress
In the home of a stranger
Who no longer lives there.

But every night, the stranger visits-
Hovering above the bed like a spectre
Telling him to keep hidden, that it’s never safe-
That if he emerges, they’ll drag him somewhere darker
And then, he deserves what comes next.

The man is old. His eyes do not turn
Or close. His body, restless silver smoke.

Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.

But the child just lays there-
Hands-over-ears, eyes like fists
Clenching liquid, lips fighting
Invisible gags.

The stranger smiles.
Slowly, curtains part.

Light crawls in-
Like scorpions