I Write In 2015

I Don't Like It Here

"I don't like it here." came the whine that cut through the dampness that seemed to hang in the hotel room.

"I don't like it much either, honey, but this is what we can afford."

"Why can't we just go home..." the whine persisted.
I bit my lip in frustration. The taste of blood let me know I had opened the wound again. I knelt down to look my daughter in the eye.

"You know we can't go back.... it's not safe."

"Daddy was angry." she began to cry quietly.

I pulled her into a hug, rocking her as I said, "Yes, Daddy was very angry."

I picked her up and carried her to the only chair in the place that did not look infested. I rocked her gently as I sang a lullaby to starve off the night and all its darkness. It was not long before her body loosened and sleep took her into a place of dreams. I prayed that they would keep her safe and be filled with sweetness.

After a time I rose carefully and carried her over to the bed I had cleaned and laid her down in the sheets I had changed. I took off her slippers and covered her with the blankets. I tucked her ratty bear under the covers with her and she turned into it, burrowing her face in its fur.

It was not long before I dressed in my own nightgown and after rechecking the locks on the door and windows, I slipped in under the sheets. I dimmed the light down to a less harsh glow then curled myself protectively around my daughter.

It was only us now. We were free. The unknown scared me, but it was less terrifying than the known we had run from.

Word Count = 299

**winner January 31, 2015

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