My ear is being chewed. The saliva is matting my fur and the stitches holding the inner and outer pieces of my ear together are beginning to unravel. She’s hiccuping now, not crying anymore, and there are longer spaces between bites. Her gnawing is absent minded, as if she’s thinking about something else. I hear her sigh into my wet ear. A bit of my fur is lodged between her front teeth.

Yesterday I lost my left eye. One second it was there and then – pop – it was gone. I’m not sure where it went. But my right eye can still see the white slatted bars and between them, the glowing yellow daisy that is plugged into the wall. Except for the daisy and the crack of light around the door, the room is dark.

The chewing has stopped now, although my ear is still in her mouth and wetter than ever. Her breath is steady and the hiccups are almost gone. Finally, she’s asleep. Keeping my promise, I keep my right eye wide open, watching the darkness and keeping all the monsters away.