Week 4: A bead of perspiration rolled from my temple down across my cheek. Or was it a tear? Why won't she love me is my last thought as my head hits the open bottom drawer. Dizziness overwhelmed and scared me, and I knew, this is not normal.
Week 5: Smoke filled the room like a cloudy day. No I realize with head spinning, everything is blurry. I cry out in pain... disbelief is mixed with tears, I hear mothers mocking laughter. Why did this just happen? What could be so evil to deserve such harsh consequences? Everyone in the kitchen is just standing there, no one moves to help, take a stand, comfort and protect a little girl? Condem the mother/wife for what she has just done?
Alone in confusion, hurt to the core, in the gut for the first time that can be remembered, too young to process the combination of all that is happening. It comes to me, move. Escape. It is then she realizes that there is no escape. There will never be. Never.
Slumped back toward the kitchen, alone, heading toward my bedroom and all of the stuffed animal friends who love me.