Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Nails digging into my skin, I embrace the pain. Better there be blood than tears. She's telling me the story of my childhood. A straight face, she means no harm. So palms pressed into my thighs, I count my breaths. My lips clamp onto my straw to keep from quivering. The pain that's not just mine, but my sister's. The slap across her innocent face makes my cheek burn, the hunger in her stomach makes my full one ache. Stories that make me realize how protected I was. A father fighting the one he once loved to keep me from knowing such a cold world existed, if only for a few years. Memories rush back of a small hand grasping my even smaller one, pulling me from danger. All of these emotions in the blink of an eye and I'm back to listening to the saddest story I know.