At this point I would be lucky to be alive when he had finished venting in the form of violent kicks and punches. The second blow landed in my stomach... I made a small noise in my throat. My stomach swirled in madness and worked its way up my esophagus. Everything I had eaten and even things I hadn’t came up. I saw blood swirled in the mess. His fingers grabbed at my hair pulling me up till i was on my knees. He spit on me. ‘I hope you scream good bitch. No one is going to hear you out here.’ I. I should have expected that. For four months, we’ve treated her like a member of the pod. Of course, she’d become one. And with our music, I spend as much or more time with her than with anyone else in the group. I’m expecting a long talk with Mom about how to treat her. I think Mom and Dad have planned dinner with Mark and Betty again this week while the pod is all gathered out at Donna’s.Here’s something the old man in me never understood. Being an artist, a musician, a writer, a poet, or. More

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