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2 weeks later
Tuesday night
Blythe

I hate living with Amora, she's been on my ass about everything lately! I got a job at the pharmacy down the street from the asylum. It's the only time I get away from Amora. When we're home she treats me like I'm the 'c-word.'

One time she sat down me at the island as if we were at the confession table. I don't know what she's trying to prove here or if she's trying to start problems with me but it's working.

"Hello," I mumbled taking off my jacket and hung it in the closet. I take a Uber from home to work and back, it's not much since it's 10 minutes away.

"Hey, can you come upstairs please?" Amora stood by the stairs as I weakly smiled. "Be there in a minute." I yawned rubbing my eyes.

Some shifts can be extremely long, sometimes Amora doesn't see me at all because I work so late. "What's going on?" I asked coming upstairs and into her room.

"I want you to quit your job, you're never home until it's ass-crack of dawn." Oh, I forgot to mention, Amora has been asking me to do the impossible! This isn't the first time she asked me to quit my job.

"I just got the job why on earth would I quit?" I looked at her confused as she shrugged. "I don't think a crazy person like you should be working in a place like that," Amora uttered throwing me off guard.

"Why would you call me that? You don't even like that word." I don't know what's up with her, or what they're telling her at the asylum. "Well the word fits you perfectly, I should be able to use it since I did get you out of there."

Huh? What's actually happening here? "Amora, are you okay?" I questioned taking off my belt. "I'm not crazy like you, of course, I'm okay." She chuckled softly pinching my cheeks. "Stop calling me that."

"What? Crazy? That's what you are, there's no way around it. You're crazy, C-R-A-Z—."

I choked her with both my hands slamming her into the door. Amora scratched at my hands trying to pry them away. The feeling was soothing, the pressure between my hands and her neck. Her nails digging in my hands, the sound of her gasping. It reminds me of home.

Flashback

"Stop! Stop! You're hurting her!" I cried struggling to get my father off of my mom. She was on the floor gasping for air, tears slipping out her eyes. "Go away!" I yelled hitting my dad.

He had lost all our money at the bar and my mom talked to him about it, I guess he took it the wrong way. This wasn't the first time my dad gave our lives away. On my 8th birthday, we spent it in the car cause my dad lost all our rent money and we got evicted.

"Leave her alone!" I yelled one last time before smashing a plate on his head. He let my mom go only to corner me. "Why I outta!" He rolled up his sleeves preparing to knock my head loose as he would always say.

I wasn't scared, I'm only scared when he hurts my mom. He could tie me to the back of his truck as long as it meant my mom would be rid of him. "I am not scared of you. You can't hurt me, so you need to leave me and mommy alone . You're the worst daddy ever!" I ran past him and crouched down to my mom.

"Honey, you don't mean that." My dad whispered standing in his corner. "I hate you," I said looking up at him then back at my mom.

I held her tightly looking at the bruises on her neck. It's a love-hate relationship with them that no one can get in between. "It's okay baby." My mom whispered grabbing onto my arms holding me close.

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