4. She marches me through the mall. She doesn’t seem to care I’m stumbling and tripping over small children, packages and other things that slide into my path. When Mom gets focused on something, it’s impossible to get her to see anything on either side of her beam. I trip along beside her and pray not to kill a toddler.
5. As the week drags on, I grow desperate. When he’s there, the chill coming from him is so intense, I can feel it in my room. I picture the icy waves of hatred creeping under his door, sneaking across the living-room to trickle under my door. At night I have to wrap extra blankets around myself to ward off the cold. Even then I find myself shivering.
YoYou will let me know what you think, won't you?