We Need to Do Something

by Max Booth III

All of his hatred is focused on my mother. This is not a foreign stare, but never before have we all been confined to such limited quarters while rage inhabited him. None of us could possibly guess how he might lash out.

And now we’re stuck here, suffering the consequences. It’s Dad’s fault. It’s my fault. It’s everybody’s fault. We dig our own graves and then we jump headfirst.