Bruised

I walked over to his side. His face all cut up and his hands bruising with busted knuckles. I scurry to the bathroom to grab towels and bandages. I returned to fix and bandage anything I could without messing up anything. My mother sitting on the bed still naked and just smiling. I just screamed at her. Telling her if she didn't love us or want us then to just leave. That we didn't need her. She looked at me with her pierced eyes. Walked up to me and all I felt was her right hand striking me across my cheek. I stood there in disbelief. Tears just rolled down my face and I was frozen. I watched her climb into bed and lay down with no remorse for hitting her own daughter. I carefully treaded to my bedroom. All I could do was cry to the point I had no tears to shed. Guy after guy and hit after hit, she took and took from us. She took our trust, our love, our dignity. My father stayed for the hope that maybe should change, maybe she would get better. I gave up. We gave her more time then she ever deserved.