19 August 2011


“You don’t talk back to me! You don’t have the right to talk back to me!”

I stood firm and wiped the tears from my face. No more yelling, I was sick of it. “Don’t talk to me like that, dad!” My fists were clinched and my face was red.

His face twisted in rage. “Do you wanna fight me!?”

What? No! But I couldn’t say the words faster than his fist could break my nose. I fell to the floor and backed myself against the back of the couch. What’s happening? I couldn’t feel the pain, but I knew it should have hurt. Tears and blood mingled around my lips, but I couldn’t taste it.

“Stop crying, pussy!”

My face hit the floor and I could hear my step-mom come into the room, but I couldn’t tell what she was saying. What’s happening? She was on the floor next to me and she was scared. What’s happening? I tasted his shoe on my face and I felt my lip slowly swell, but it didn’t hurt.

“No, stop!” She screamed, but only once. She laid unconscious next to me.

I tried to back up farther, but the couch was in the way. Please stop. I’ll tell my teachers that I bit my lip too hard and it swelled up. I wiped blood from my face. It smeared against my arm.

“Don’t you get that on my couch! This is my house! You don’t wipe blood all over my house!” He lifted his foot, but I cowered back and he stopped.

The door outside was behind him. I couldn’t make it. The sun through the window burned my eyes. What’s happening?

I was in class and my teacher smiled and gave me some chap-stick, but my lips weren’t chapped, “Thanks.” I smiled and took my seat.

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