(journal)

Abuse

The smell of wine over powers my brain and makes me slow down. Just the smell alone makes me fearful of the night. When I smell it I usually end up hurt. I'm scared to close my eyes.

I'm scared for Monty. I don't want him to get hurt.

My mother opens the door. The scent gets stronger. It burns.

I watch her. Don't trust her.

She bends over to pick up something. What is it she's picking up? Before I can move to see she throws it at me. A shoe. Don't react. She stumbles over to my bed and drags Monty out from under it. Leave him alone. She throws him on my bed and starts rubbing his aching back. I think it's safe. She reaches over and touches my boob. It's not safe. She reaches for my back. No. I smack her hand away from my stinging back. Bad choice. She smacks me across the face and pokes at my genitals. Stop. Please. I want to cry. Stop it.