After school, I drove myself home.
The dirt road I lived on ran between two other dirt roads. So it wasn't a shortcut to anything.
You didn't go down it unless you lived there.
And though our houses were far apart, we basically knew everyone and what they drove within a few square miles.
One day as I drove down the side road that led to my road, a red pickup came barreling toward me.
I didn't recognize it, but I had this sinking feeling.
I sped up and turned the corner and hurried to park my car before running inside.
The truck hadn't come into view. Which meant they hadn't turned down my road. And I breathed a sigh of relief.
I locked the door and went further into the house.
Then there was honking from the driveway.
I looked out, and... a red pickup sat in the drive.
They were too far away for me to see into the cab, but the passenger's hairy arm hung out the window.
For about 15 minutes, they sat there honking before they left.
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
