Budding

I leaned against the bathroom door and pushed with all my might as mother, on the other side, battled to unlock it with a kitchen knife. The bathroom had been my only safe haven in my parents small home; no other room could be locked. Quickly, however, after a few jabs with the knife the door gave way, crushing me between it and the wall. Mother then grabbed hold of my long straight hair and pulled it with such force that some came out. Then, still grabbing hold of my hair she dragged me to the bathtub and crouched me there, pushing my head hard against my legs forcing my neck to crack.

“Mom please stop; you’re hurting me!” I cried.

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