I sit in the corner and listen to my mommy's scream. I hear it every night when my step-father comes home after a night of drinking.
It's always the same. First I have to listen to her screams, then she has to listen to mine when he comes upstairs. I can hear his footsteps now.
I don't cry when I hear him approach anymore. I'm too used to it. I see the doorknob turn and I cringe for just a second as he enters the room.
As he steps toward me, I always want to fight back, but know I can't. If only I had the power...
