INSECURITY

         

Just moved to Socorro. One of the times my hair was cut. The picture on the right reveals volumes.

          The springs squeaked as I turned over in my bed.  Bronco was sleeping peacefully across the room.  It was comforting to know he was there.  An emotion of protective love rose up in me as I watched his sleeping form.  I would always take care of him, I decided; he needed me.  I tossed restlessly on the bed and moved the wet part of the pillowcase away from my face.  The room seemed strange and unfamiliar in the dark.  I gazed up at the ceiling, then rose up and looked toward the bedroom door and the light shining through the crack.  Music and voices filtered into the room as the television played for the baby sitter.  Mom had gone out with new friends for the evening.

          I wish Mom would get home, I thought to myself.  At just that moment, I heard a car engine and headlights shown on the wall of the bedroom.  Maybe that’s her, I thought hopefully.  The car drove on by.  I lay back against the pillow.  Tears formed in my eyes until they filled to the brim, trickled down my cheeks, into my hair and pillowcase.  My imagination overpowered me.  What if Mom doesn’t come home?  She might be killed, and Bronco and I would be left alone!  I turned and sobbed into my pillow until, finally exhausted, my eyelids closed heavily and I slept.