Unseeing

It didn’t matter how hard he rubbed his eyes, he could not get the images out. Some things, once seen, cannot be unseen, not his parents arguing, not spider over his bed, not the dream of a house without an exit. These images hang in space, a mobile of segmented time and space, cluttering his vision, a forest of memories and shadows blocking his view, obscuring the path from darkness to light, from captivity to freedom.

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