Trigger

Trigger warning
Sick of sitting at the shitty, dirty table in the corner of the bar drinking flat soda with my sisters watching my mother laugh and booze it up oblivious to her children, I’d had enough. I’d often had enough. Me and my temper and my mouth. My attitude. My arrogance. My righteousness. No bitch. Not on my time. Not with my sisters. I’m leaving.
I told my sisters to come with me. I’m leaving. No no. I had no time to argue. I got up and walked out the door. No one noticed.
I was 10 mikes from home. Mikes through dangerous neighborhoods. 10 years old. So what
I’m walking home.
I walked about 3 miles. Then the car pulls up next to me on curb.
I pay no attention. Who is this creep
I keep walking
Car pulls up again. My mother yells out the passenger window.
Goddamn bitch, get in the car
No
I walk
Her asshole of the moment parks. She gets out and grabs me. Mother is over 300 lbs. Drags me to the car.
My sisters are terrified of what may happen to me. Me? I’m furious
I begin to yell. Let me out! We should not be in a car with a drunk driver. Let me out.
Mother turns around and shows me her hand. Yeah sure. I’m unfazed. I open the car door. Boyfriend of the moment freaks out and pulls over
Now I am pulled toward the front seat by my hair. Damnit.
My sisters are crying. I feel sad for my sisters. I want to slap my mother. So I shut up
It wasn’t the first or last time

Kat

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