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Show in my father's house/ 281 teeth and hair and nails growing. My skin tingled and the hair on my arras stood on end. I sat on the bed and tried to think. My thoughts, refusing to coalesce, only blurred colors into blackness. And this strong physicality. He had hit me. Never spanked me once as a child. Why? Why? Why? Again I paced, feeling like a tigress. I pulled a brown paper bag from my closet and began to load my clothes into it. "I'm so sick of second-hand clothes. Second-hand love. All of it," I muttered, vaguely aware that I tasted tears. There was a knock on my door. My heart stopped. Had he returned? It was Danny. "What are you doing?" He sat on my bed. "I'm leaving." "Why?" "Daddy..." I could not tell it. My words became a flood of angry tears. Danny put an arm around me. "I know. Mama told me about it." His arm tightened. "You can't leave. Where would you go?" "I don't know. To Jeanne's." "You can't go to Jeanne's. You can't expect her parents to take care of you." "Just for awhile. I can't stay here," My voice broke again. "Why not? You have to stay here. There's no place else to 30. Now just calm down and listen to me. In awhile you'll feel setter." His arm cinched my shoulder-blades together. Anger "ose again in me until I felt comforted and suffocated all at |
