The Wall
There was a set of 6 mirror tiles on the wall in the hall It was outside my bedroom. I cant remember who went through that wall if it was me, my brother or my mom. It was so frequent that it was normal to see a hole and something coving it. As if something covering in made it disappear, that the action that caused it never happened. Through my life I blocked it out. I continued to live my life pretending that it never happened and that it would never happen again. It was generational on my dad's side. No one had to tell me that. I experienced it. Witnessed it. I saw my father beat our family but I also saw my uncles beat their children My mother's side was different. There was no hitting just love and respect. So it made for a confusing childhood. I was raised by my mom to respect myself and protect myself. My father raised me to cower, forgive, accept and aggrestion towards others was rewarded. I already knew that I would never hurt anyone physically. I could...