“Come with me horse.”

“I will come.”

“Can I ride with you?”

“Grab my mane, get a hold and we will ride the wind together.”

“I love you horse, you are so tender and gentle.”

“You are mine, I share my warmth with you, and I will show you all the beauty of this world. It can be yours, but only here, when you are with me. I cannot protect you when you slide back into that other world.”

She lay in that small space, in and among the bulkier blankets. Below her were the folded sheets, towels and wash cloths. Withdrawn here, hidden from the cruel world outside the drab, brown door, she floated into delicate, cherished worlds. Images from pages of the book that lay open on her chest flooded into her deep conscience and she lived them.

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Earlier, she had chosen a moment to get away from the locked cabinets and those long red fingernails that fit perfectly into the upper sides of her arms. Laura never opened the hall closet unless the coast was perfectly clear. The horrors of having someone discover her sacred place kept her cautious. She had to climb the four lower shelves to get into the tiny space on the top shelf, where the older blankets were kept without much use. There was a small flashlight and several books hidden away. Once she was up, she had to carefully pull the plastic strap she’d affixed to the flat top of the door to close it securely.

The morning had started the same as many. The predawn blush reached into her sleeping mind to awaken her to the softest part of the day. The small house was quiet and chill as Laura stretched herself awake, smiling at the sky. Digging through her things, she pulled on the old gray sweatshirt, careful not to let her left hand slip through the hole in the sleeve rather than the end of it. Her blue jeans followed and then the sneakers. Ready for what would come her way, she sat silent at the window and hoped.