I found myself in our space, which is really within.
It was darker than what was natural.
He had found his way in there in his torture.
Desperate to anchor himself to something, anything.
He had no control, something I had never seen before.
He was curled up on the floor screaming and crying.
As I drew near the flashes of memory from his death pelted me like stones.
It took everything not to fall pathetically to my knees and cry along side him.
Tears were rolling down my face, and I did stoop down to see what was the matter,
But I already knew.
His body was curled and broken.
His shoulders crumbling under my hands,
His hair was dampened with feverish sweat, and his face was hot.
I asked him if he could walk, but he couldn't respond. There was no control.
I slung his arm across my shoulders
And shaking madly
I pulled him up and walked him some place softer.
He had no use of his leg, it was almost as though it had never existed there before.
There was so much blood,
It smelled of death