Rodger’s

-Why am I the devil in your eyes? Why do your truths wear such thin disguise? Why can’t I scream, why can’t I bleed? Choked by your silence—just let me fing leave.- The blindfold was once a strip of linen from an old curtain, now frayed at the edges. It kept the world out—the light, the faces, the reminders. They had seen too much. Eyes were traitors, revealing pain with every glance, every flicker. Better to keep them shut. The gag was softer—a scarf, knotted tight behind their head. It wasn’t for anyone else’s comfort. It was their own. Words had once betrayed them, too—promises whispered, screams ignored. Speaking had become a risk they no longer dared to take The memory was jagged—like broken glass under bare feet—but it never dulled. Somewhere between fleeing the fire and vanishing into the woods, they had become someone else. Someone quieter. Someone smaller. That’s when you escaped finding yourself only in a road. A police car slamming on their breaks as they see you. You’re lucky… Rodger’s staring from behind the steering wheel eyes wide open.