My jacket pockets are filled with books which will protect me from the coming violence. They will stop bullets. A young girl approaches, raises her arm, in her hand is a knife. I catch her wrist as she strikes. I pull her to me, kiss her hair. She drops the knife. We hold each other. We cry. She grabs onto me, holding my neck, hugging me, her legs wrap around my waist. She is smaller. Like a child. Smaller. A toddler. Smaller. A little animal. Within a moment, she is a demon. She bites my neck, ripping my flesh off. Spits it out. I cannot get her off me. She has adhered to my body. I stand still. Open my arms. She bites a hunk out of my shoulder. My face. She eats me piece by piece until my body is gone and I am only awareness.
From a journey guided by Dr. Janet Piedilato.