I am such a bad mother for having you do this but I have no one else right now. You are not to speak of this afterword." I was so young and unable to grasp how what happened next would affect me. My mother hands me the camera and simply asks me to take some photos to the best of my ability to capture the images she needed. She stud up using me as a support to sand and slowly walks over to middle of the room pushing aside the shattered picture frames and broking antics that had once belonged to her. She stands in front of the bed and takes off her shirt exposing elongated purple black and blue welts that aligned her body from her neck to below her back. .
As the wind from the central air lay against her exposed back with the swelling colorful wounds she flinched with pain. She explained that dad had gotten out of hand and took the first thing he could get his hand on, his belt, and started to swing. She explained how she turned as soon as she saw him pick it up and so there was only the makes on her back she needed pictures of to get justice for the pain he had inflicted on her. With a gasp I quickly covered my mouth and stud up suddenly. All at once I felt pain, hate, regret, anxiety, and pure revenge fester inside me. I keep my mouth covered by my time and and walked over to her. I lifted the camera up to my watery blue eye and quickly took as many pictures as I could hoping that one or two of them would be good enough for me to be able to leave. I set the camera down and hurried out of the room before my mom could turn around I ran quietly outside in my fluffy pink pajamas down the narrow trail filled with weeds and beautiful wild flowers that me and my siblings had carved out from using the path so frequently. I spotted my weeping willow with its long sad limes stretching toward the grown.
I sat down in the dirt not caring for the mud and due of the night before had invaded the cleanliness of my pajamas and skin.