Tiny toes squinched up beyond the grace of a ballerina. My body is quivering and I am here but beyond. Gripped by fear I cannot think. Snuffed shivers. There is someone in my room. I want to move and know that nothing will change unless I stand up and refuse this. Sometimes I stand on the chair and pull my sleeping bag down from the closet-- unraveling it in the tub. Sometimes I drag my pillow to the hall and collapse into deep sleep on the carpet next to my parent's room.