Closet

It was that closet. The yellow door and red accents. That's the one you locked me in.

People today say I'm weird for not being so talkative, but you would know why.

That summer with you almost killed me. You're supposed to love me...

No speaking. That was the one rule. I couldn't speak. One word and you would lock me in that closet. Dark and cold.

After that, I never went back. I tried to forget it, but now? I have fears that someone like me shouldn't have.

The dark.

Tight spaces.

Speaking too loud or too much.

So thanks for that dad.