As a kid, I was active and creative. That changed by the time I was 5. My grandmother (mom's mom) would beat me for no reason. It was terrifying knowing that I wasn't safe where I was living. My parents fought over my safety, but my mother would always win. She didn't believe that my grandmother beat me until I said something. Then she finally took action. My life was alright for a couple of years, but it changed in a heartbeat. One day, my mother was drunk and playing with a knife, and she called me over. I came quickly, thinking she needed something. Then she pulled me in closer, not knowing what she was doing, she slid the knife into my right shoulder. I screamed as I held my shoulder tightly. My mother soon realized what she did, and patched it up within 30 minutes. I had to go to the hospital for a few days, but I will never forget the pain of a cold, sharp, metal object in my body. I wanted to die, but I kept fighting to see my little brother grow up. My mother paid for her doing.
