I remember coming home that day.
My mom had dropped her kitchen knife on the cutting board and ran over to me.
She lifted up the rolled up the sleeves of my baggy sweatshirt too.
She broke out into tears and hugged me and asking me what did those people do to me.
It wasn't many people who were doing this to me.
It just was only one person.
That goes to show how weak I was as my mom's only daughter.
She gave me a tight hug.
"I will sit down in front this girl's parents and we will have a heart to heart talk. You and Stephanie will be there too."
I sternly shook my head and gripped my mom's hands.
"If that won't work, then the school and the police will get involved! I will not let a snarky brat of a girl or anyone else lay a hand on my daughter like that! Do you understand me Myra? Bullying and abuse is not tolerated anywhere!"
I nodded and embraced my mom tightly, mouthing a 'thank you'.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Couldn't Speak ✓
Short StoryMama told me that I was a beautiful girl when I was little. Mama said that I had the prettiest tan skin, soft wavy black hair, and the most enchanting emerald eyes. She always called me her bundle of joy. Then she got very sad when she told me that...
