What exactly were you afraid of, one might wonder. You weren’t raped in a house, there was no invasion or break-in. But it’s the sleeping itself that got me, the unconscious, vulnerable state in which anything can happen. The night of my assault, I’d missed the chance to fight back. I tried to outsmart the system, sleeping with one eye open, one eye closed, drifting in and out. Times I have accidentally dozed off, I’ve woken up with alarms blaring in my chest, what did I miss. At five o’clock in the morning, when light became a promise, I’d drift off to the sound of newspapers being thrown,
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