
“My father moved back in with us when I was nine. He was an alcoholic. And he was a very big man. I remember being too intimidated to look past his neck. The first couple of weeks he was very nice. Every night he would put me to bed and tell me a story of a hopping bunny. Those are my happiest memories, but he got bored with that pretty quickly. When I was sixteen, he punched me in the face so hard that he shattered my front teeth.” (½)
Published on September 12, 2015 08:38