When your mother kissed your scraped knee and put a bandage on it, you were going to escape. When you invited only girls to your fourth birthday party and your mom insisted you invite at least one boy, you were going to escape. When he hit you, you were going to escape. When he hit you with his belt, you were going to escape. When he put your rabbit in the attic and told you to stop being such a baby, you were going to escape.
