I lay down even though scared,
Pretending that I had slept,
While I took caution to shield my legs,
With my short fiery animal-printed skirt.
Alas, it wouldn’t even bend,
To my very own will at best,
It kept rising up my length,
To the top of my laps, wielding its own strength.
I looked from my right to my left,
And I saw that he hadn’t ever left,
He held his sword just by the helm,
He had sworn to protect me against any theft.
But as I lay on my side and felt his breath,
I wondered if there was ever any truth to his words,
“Does he even know that I’m still kept?”
I gave out a sharp cry and wept.
Day 8 of 100.