by Michelle Dugas
I walk through the hall with a horrible feeling why do I feel
that someone is screaming. I turn around and there he is. I
can't see his face but I know who he is. Clutched in his hand
my arm hangs limp. He slaps me around, with a viscious whip.
I fall to the floor, my hand in my hands, he walks to the kitchen
to get some pans. Tired and scared, I walk to the door and happen
to meet another. His face shriveled up in a sight of disgust,
as I wiggled around and started to cuss. He hits me again I feel
it will never end. He takes me in a room and turns out the light.
That's where I put up a great big fight. He's hit in the eye and
doesn't cry, he's on the bed as I jump. Screaming for help, I hear
a loud yelp, and somebody takes me home.