"Would it be okay if I let you stay at grandma's for a while?"
I abruptly removed my attention from the novel I was reading for class.
"Dad, don't you know that she's a crazy woman?"
My father gave me a stern look and his lips were formed into a tight line.
"She's not crazy Vanessa, she's just delusional sometimes."
I stood up from my seat at the dining table and slammed my hands down on the table.
"There is no way you're going to make me stay with her again. You know exactly what happened last time; she almost killed me in my sleep!"
"Well, she told me that she never laid a hand on you."
"That's because she has short term memory! Of course she's not going to remember anything about me after a month of not seeing her!"
My father's jaw clenched and he threw his wine glass at the wall several feet behind me.
The wine glass smashed itself into smithereens and all of its fragments scattered onto the floor.
"Don't you dare talk back to me again! That is not how you talk to your own father!"
"Fuck you!" I spat angrily.
I hissed as I made my way over to the stairs, a small shard of glass cutting into my heel.
I shrugged off the pain and stomped upstairs to my room, slamming the door shut.
I leaned against the bedroom wall and slid down to the floor, putting my face into my hands.
I let the tears build up until I couldn't hold them any longer, and I started to cry in silence.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Couldn't Speak ✓
Historia CortaMama 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...
