Slowly she can hear him closing in on her. Her eyes fall shut in defeat, fear closing it's clutches around her soul. His right leg drags behind him. it's been like that ever since the accident. She knows the familiar sound all to well and dread its familiarity.
Behind the sofa she sits holding onto her knees as if it will make her smaller, less visible. Her small frame stuck between the wall and the sofa, she should have said something when the nice lady was here today. She should have said she fears the night falling over this house.
But this is a fear, a need, a terrible hate that grows with her daily.
As much as she hates it, she does not know anything but it.