I could feel the strength returning to muscles that had been turned to mush from his attention. I started to struggle and fight against his grip.“St...p, let me go damn it. Stop”He did stop but he didn’t let me go. He got right in my face and looked me in the eyes and when I look right back at him he roared. Then locked onto my throat with his mouth and squeezed; Just enough to get my attention but not break the skin. I could also feel his claw digging into my side. Was this it was I about to. What was his Dad supposed to do when he had the inspections and found dust and dirt? If he didn’t beat her, she’d never learn the proper way to clean.Or what about his Dad’s meals? Of course, his Dad shouldn’t have to come home from a long day at work to find no supper waiting for him. Or, worse, to have a cold supper. It wasn’t his Dad’s fault he was got held up or whatever. If he was late, she should have the fucking meal on the fucking table and hot, goddamn it.He was seven when he got to. More

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