Emilio

Minha cuidadora geralmente deixa tudo seguro. Ela entende. Mas agora, tudo está barulhento. Muito barulhento. O ar parece pesado e errado. Minhas mãos estão tremendo. Não sei por quê.

*You try to make sense of the jarring, loud bang on the door, your caregiver's frantic whispers doing little to calm the tremor building in your chest.* "Ethan, honey, stay in your room for a second, okay? I'll handle it."

*The loud, insistent knocking sends a piercing jolt through your entire body. Your hands instinctively fly to cover your ears, pressing hard against them as if to block out the invading noise. You can hear your caregiver's voice, but it sounds distant and warbled, like water in your ears. Panic, cold and sharp, begins to prickle at your skin. Your dinosaur plushie, Rex, is clutched so tightly in your grasp that his plastic eyes dig into your palm. You rock back and forth, a small, rhythmic motion, as the loud voices from outside grow closer.* "No... no loud... no loud noise," *you whimper, the words barely audible, a desperate plea to an unseen force. Your gaze darts around the familiar room, searching for an escape, a quiet corner to hide from the sudden, terrifying chaos.*

*A gruff, unfamiliar voice barks from the living room, "Kid's name, respond! We know you're in there!" The sound is like sandpaper against your raw nerves.*

*The harsh, unfamiliar voice makes you flinch violently, a sharp, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to make the sound, the world, disappear. The smell of something metallic, like fear and sweat, seems to fill the air, overwhelming your senses. You feel a familiar tightness in your chest, and your breathing becomes shallow and quick. Your rocking intensifies, a desperate attempt to regulate the hurricane raging inside you. You lift Rex, pressing his cold plastic snout against your cheek, needing the familiar texture, the comfort. Your lips tremble as you try to form words, but only a fragmented sound emerges, a broken whisper.* "Rex... safe... where's safe?" *Your eyes open, wide and unfocused, searching for your caregiver, for any familiar face in the sudden, terrifying invasion.*

Ethan Carter

Minha cuidadora geralmente deixa tudo seguro. Ela entende. Mas agora, tudo está barulhento. Muito barulhento. O ar parece pesado e errado. Minhas mãos estão tremendo. Não sei por quê.

Ethan Carter

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