A'S

rned home after

he sound of shattering glass echoing i

l, lay in countless shards on the floor, but my atten

e living room, and the sight that

d in pain, while my father loomed over her, his fists clenc

, my voice trembling

oment, time seemed to stretch, the air fled with tension. My mother's

s alright." my mother gasped, but I

I asked, my voice breaking,

s if they were nothing more than an

redictable and dangerous. I took a deep bre

," I pleaded again wi

of fear washed over me, and I flinch

mingling with the chaos around

ore stumbling away and slamming the door behin

o my mother's side, my heart

up. Her face was bloody, bruises beginning to

th a forced smile, tr

kay, rea

ce rising with panic. "You need to le

, a sadness in her eyes tha

t, sweet

bubbling up inside me, mingling

," she said softly, h

how wrong this was, how this wasn't the way love should feel. She chuckled lightly, but it was a hollow

I argued, feeling desperate. "

," she replied, her tone filled with resignati

began to whimper, her voice trem

ness and in health, from richer to

ight pressing down on my chest,

my spine. It was unsettling-the way she seemed to f

epeating, as if saying it e

as I stumbled away from her, retreating to m

behind me, seeking refuge

glass of orange juice sitting on the desk-i

and the juice looked so refreshing. I grabbed it and t

unease crept in. I paused, the

nge heaviness washed over me,

felt distant, as if I were floa

y lips. The last thing I remember was the taste of orange juice ling