Journal 2 - 12/10/2025

Mentions child abuse, domestic violence, and some political issues.

You duck, and the book hurled at you, thwacks into my eye.

She's your girlfriend. My stepmom, I guess. And the bruise begins to bloom like a corpse-lily.

When she rushes over and apologizes, I'm aware that I'm speaking to someone younger than me. Younger than me, shackled by adulthood. Rules, expectations, and children she can't manage.

My upper lip is stiff, so I don't cry. I don't remember what I say, if I say anything at all. Maybe an "ouch." But I do remember scanning the room for my siblings.

Innocent, and quivering in the corners. By the stairwell, or on a sunburnt, velvet chair.

The house smells like instant ramen, pot, and peanut butter cookies. It always does.

I don't think my dad checks on me either, he was too busy screaming at her. I mean, he defended my honor, I guess.

Eventually, we are ushered into the neighbor's apartment for safety. Her name is Holly; she is the stepmom's sister.

Otter pops, and the Wallace & Gromit movie playing is our refuge. She tries to shield us from more of the fighting, tries to soothe us.

My dad screams at Amy for getting an abortion. At six, I don't know what that is. And when he belts, "You KILLED your baby..." I am shocked.

But I remembered when Amy told me she accidentally killed a kitten when she was a little girl, like me. So maybe, it's not so ridiculous? And when she said that...I was scared.

Scared of her and terrified I might one day do the same thing. Squeeze my own kitten at home to death. I reflected on when I almost 'tried', but once my kitten showed any sign of struggle or pain, I stopped immediately.

How could she possibly squeeze it so hard, it died?

After I tested that, I decided she was evil. Just like the blaring, white-hot noise I felt when I grasped her hand for the first time. When my ear drums shook like a death rattle, and the particles around her became TV static.

I was quiet. But always listening. Now at twenty-seven, I remember all these details and write them.

Holly shrieks back that Amy in fact, did not murder her baby. That settles that.

The rest actually, I don't remember so well. But the cool, crisp raspberry ice, almost drowns out the violence.