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Aug 2016
I remember my first fight with my mom, I could hear her crying all the way down the hall.
I remember the first time I got hit by an adult, and the bruises that poured over my body in a matter of weeks.
I remember the first time my heart was broken, the pain was unimaginable.
I remember the first time my youngest brother got drunk and stumbled to the driveway,I took his keys so he couldn’t drive.
I remember the day my niece died, the pain that came over my sister covered her like a blanket.
I remember the night I got the call that Ezkial was dead, listening to the tv the next morning just sitting there in a haze drenched in tears and sorrow. I remember the first time I hurt my brother, yelling about how our father was a ******* and worthless.
I remember the fights with my dad, him slamming the door behind himself as he leaves me there in tears.
I remember the first time I let someone touch my body without shaking, I let him see beneath my skin.
I remember the day I got the call that my brother was arrested for a DUI.
I remember “falling down” the stairs and brushing it off as if I just stumbled.
I remember going into the emergency room and mumbling “I trusted him”.
I remember the day Danny and I were adopted from Russia, looking through the back window as we dove away, the orphanage fading away into the distance.
I remember the day I felt the most defeated.
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