Can you hear my dreams?

I have dreams. You know the kind. An education. Kids. A family. Health. A roof. Freedom. The simple life.

To some these dreams may seem simple, a little too simple. No mention of fame, wealth or popularity. Dreams, they are funny kinda things. The one thing that no one can take away from you. No matter what happens no one will ever have my dreams.

Dreams. Its funny, I sit here alone, I can almost taste the stale air. In fact, its the only thing I can taste. Well, thats worth tasting anyway. As long as I don't have to taste him. His clean, yet rancid lips. Waiting, expecting. I wonder what his wife would say. And his kids. Its been a while though, I've kinda gotten used to it. Its routine. Its the sex that gets me. The rape.

I've been in this place for what seems like an eternity. How long exactly? Your guess is as good as mines. All I care about is when the next meal will be. When he will be back round.

Dreams. A sort of hope. A self made agenda. I've always wondered if I am missed. Are people looking for me? Do people even remember me? I think of the day when the power and passion of hope will break down these four walls. I can finally use my voice again. Tell people to hold onto their dreams. Girls my age probably don't care much for dreams.

Hope. Its all I have left. That and my dreams. I'll be out of here one day and when I get out I'll ask why. Why did no one come and save me from this hell? Why did no one lock him up? Are there more people like me? Does he do it to them too? I feel sick.

Back To Top