“What did he do to you?” I can’t help the shaking in my hands or the words that flow to the tip of my tongue. Nothing. Dad was great. Everything is fine. I slipped. Yes, I’m eating okay. No, our water isn’t shut off. It’s just messed up right now. Yeah, I had a shower this week. I swallow them all, every last lie I’ve told for my entire life. Since the first taste of his hatred, I’m going to tell the truth and hope it doesn’t bite me on the ass. “He hated me, I think, and mom. He screamed a lot when he wasn’t too messed up to speak. He only hit me a handful of times, usually just trashed the
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