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Glassy eyed
I watch as her fist reaches my cold cheek, but I feel nothing at all. The feeling of pain doesn't show on my face, because that would be a sign of weaknes. I guess my nerves have been canceled out by the fear burning deep in my throat, and before the wet stars graze my cheeks, I begin to tremble. I already know how supper's going to taste again tonight, cold and dry. I try to tell myself, "It's not your fault", she's just low on meds today.
I watch the tan colored dish shatter, as it slashes into the panel on the wall, and I am already weightless. My toes are stuck in one place on the floor, as I whisper my usual mantra to myself, "Welcome Home".