Somewhere I belong får mig att gråta

Det händer inte ofta, men ikväll GRÄT jag verkligen när jag skrev, det gjorde ont i hela mig. Ni kanske inte kommer fatta direkt vad det handlar om eller förstå varför jag gråter när jag skriver, vilket jag inte heller kan riktigt förstå, men det gör verkligen ont i mig att göra som jag gör mot mina karaktärer, att döda ett barn, beröva det på dess barndom när jag vet hur många har lidit i verkligen livet. Det är hemskt, men jag måste skriva såna här scener om jag ska kunna genomföra den här berättelsen, vilket jag verkligen vill. Just nu letar jag information om hur barn "erkänner" för sina föräldrar att de blivit utsatta för övergrepp. Hittade ett helt forum med desperata föräldrar som skriver sina berättelser om hur deras barn överlevt övergrepp. Tänk om jag fick vara deras röst genom min berättelse.
Nu har jag i alla fall lyckats snyta näsan och torkat tårarna, ska försöka rensa huvudet, tänka på något annat, måste hoppa i säng nu.
Inspirationen till den här scenen kommer från det avsnitt då Tyler Perry besökte Oprah.
När han berättade att han flydde till en plats han älskat att besöka som barn när han blev utsatt för övergrepp fick jag idén till den här scenen, nu är den "äntligen" nedskriven, dock verkligen inte redigerade at all.

He felt him behind him. Wanted to scream. The petrifying fear numbed him. His heart stopped. The little boy inside him died right there in the bedroom of his mother. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to get to the place in his memory, the most beloved memory. To the park where he used to play on the swings with his brother. Desperately trying to remember Jesse's smile, those smiling eyes, those smiling eyes. Trying so hard to remember what turned blurry before his eyes. It hurt, it burned the pain was unbearable. The hand with the narrow fingers silenced him turned his cries into whispers no one could hear. “Jesse!” The little boy in the park is screaming. “Jesse where are you?!” Tears streaming down his face when he can't find his brother. Looking around him but can only see grass and trees, can't even see the swings in the playground. Is suddenly hearing his brother's warm laughter. “Here I am silly!” Turning his head, facing his brother, the playground arises from the ground. Seeing him, feeling the relief of finding his brother. Running towards the swings. It burned even worse. Jesse reaching out his hand to him. “Can I swing with you?” “Sure.” Jesse is saying and takes his hand, pulling him up on the swing. They swing together in the happy place. He doesn't want to let go of that memory, desperately clinging on to it with his entire life. Wanting nothing more than to be at that place right now right at that moment when the dragon slays him, swallows him alive. Longed for Jesse to take him with him to the park where only happiness existed, where there were no tears or sad scars on ones heart. The dragon huffed and puffed then left his pray to die. Would he rise from the ashes like a phoenix? Or would he just disappear into the nothingness.

Jesse came home late that night. When their eyes met, Jesse knew. “Let me help you.” he said and led his brother in to the bathroom. He put the water on in the bathtub then he turned the water on.
They crawled in to bed, Jesse let his brother sleep closest to the wall. They held hands in silence, had barely spoken a word since Jesse had put his foot inside the house. Noah squeezed his brother's hand tightly not daring the risk of letting go, what would happen if he did?