My guard dropped for a moment, and an enemy slipped in.
It started a few nights ago when I went to bed. Something small, unseen, yet utterly determined. I would lie down, ready for rest, and then I felt a presence. The faintest sound, sharp enough to pierce silence itself. I ignored it at first. Foolish of me.
It soon crept into my evenings. I would sit down to read, to pray, to eat – and it came. I would pick up a weapon and wave it around, hoping to hit the invisible enemy. Nothing. But I knew it was there, waiting to pounce.
Then came the afternoons. Peace became impossible. I have scars all over my body – proof that I had been found and defeated.
Now it has invaded my mornings. Before the sun fully rises, before I can think a single peaceful thought, it is already there – circling, taunting, hungry.
I have tried reason. I have tried defence. I have tried violence. Nothing lasts. Nothing works.
If I am not careful, I might get incapacitated and there is no one to take care of Ben. This must end. I will rise, armed with weapons and vengeance. I will show no mercy.
Because evil, it turns out, has wings – and drinks blood before breakfast.
Yes. My enemy… is the mosquito.
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