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February 1, 2008

Tanya: Untitled

“I told you to have my dinner ready, you stupid…

BITCH!”

The corner of the nightstand sliced open her temple as she fell. Too numb to feel the cut, she sensed only the blood trickling down her cheek.

The next kick, perfectly aimed at her right kidney, knocked her blissfully out cold. When she came to, he had turned away.

She stayed silently on the floor, curled up, afraid to be seen, remembered. When she finally opened her eyes, the aluminum baseball bat, tucked behind the shoeboxes under the bed, was just inches from her bloody face. And she smiled.

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