After a good hard fight.

"You're just tuning me out, Rosie. You're just fucking tuning me out and not listening to a word I said."

A grinding of teeth. "If I didn't tune you out, mother, I would have killed you by now."

A spit. "I'd sink the knife into you, first."

Hatred. Grinding silence on my part.

"I want you out by fall, Rosie. Find somewhere else."

She's kicking me out.

I come home from my volunteering to find a knife on the table. A very out of place knife. It wasn't there when I left. It shouldn't be there. It's a little used, big cooking knife, the kind with the curved blade.

Probably the sharpest knife we have.

It was left right where people leave phone messages.

Do you think she's trying to tell me something?

I want out. Or the cops. Or a foster home. I just want out.

.

Rosie.

Before&After