I'm scared (idea)
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|Just a flash of a conversation. A tiny scene. A tidbit of a memory.
So that was how it was. I was scared too. I just didn't want him to know. I wanted him to hit me. . . right then, right that very instant, because if he didn't do it, and verify that I was alive. . .
I needed to know. And he hit me. And we couldn't forgive ourselves for it. There was an ugly blue-black bruise to be explained away. There were lots of awkward silences, brutal conversations, arguments. And then there was nothing.
"Don't do this. I'm scared."