\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1624917-peices-of-her
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 18+ · Draft · Family · #1624917
the preface of this book. starting at the the day after Christmas
they say that children dont really see anyting, but the truth is they see everything. And if your not careful they will think thats how its suppose to be.

Dec. 26, 1998



the day after Christmas for a ten year old should be bliss from the the day before glow. I cant say that i remember every Christmas that i ever had but i can say that this one will certainly never leave my memory.

My mom came into the livingroom to turn the radio down, it was playing this weird song about hitting it from the back. i didnt know what it was talking about but i did know she didnt wont me listening to it.
" Don't be playing that type of music in front of my baby," i heard my mama scream as she stomped to her room and slammed the door.
there was arguing and things moving around in the room for a while and then she came out, and stormed for the bathroom. Darrell, who was my moms boyfriend and my two brothers dad, ran behind her and begin beating on the bathroom door.
" Don't tell me what to do woman, it aint like you and yor damn drunk friends dont be listening to it." I wouldnt tell my mom this but i hated the way he looked at me when she wasnt around. Like if he had the chance he would hurt me. He turned around and gave me this really scary look and i just closed my eyes so i wouldnt see him.
" get the hell off the door Darrell, im trying to use it," my mom said, the way she sounded made me feel like something was wrong and that i should porbably go in the room with my brothers. So as i started to gather the things for my new barbie, three things happened all at once that seemed to change the way i veiwed everyone and everything. First, the bathroom door flew open with a swift kick from the raging bull on the outside of the door. Second, the face my mother made sent frightening chills up and down my spine that made my want to kill. And last was the quickness of his hand snatching the towel rack rod from the wall and slamming that into my mom's face.
i knew then that life was not like Christmas morning.

My name is Sandra Davenport and this is the story of my fight with life, love, and family.
© Copyright 2009 juschillin (jus_chillin434 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1624917-peices-of-her