One night I was sitting on my bed reading when she came in. She pulled me off of my bed and slapped me. Then she punched my stomach so hard that I fell against the wall. The tears came on their own for the first time. She left. I thought it was over. But this time was different.
She came back a minute later with a curling iron. She hit me in the neck. She then shook me by my shoulders. She called me things I could never repeat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. He was there. I studied Mama's face. She hadn't seen it.
Slap after slap, name after name, hit after punch after kick, I knew this time was different. She wasn't stopping. My mama wasn't the same.
YOU ARE READING
Concrete Angel
JugendliteraturA little girl is abused by her mother. This child has to fight for her life. This is a story that I hope sends a message to you.
