The phone rang again.I was on the 5 zipping through the Orange Crush towards the 22/57 ramps when I finally started to calm down a bit. My mom had bee... repeatedly calling me and this time, I answered the phone."Ben, what are you doing?" I'm going to Dawn's." You have school tomorrow." I don't care."Mom sighed. There were several seconds of silence and I took the time to check my mirrors for cops and to pass the walnut geriatric Cadillac doing 65 in the fast lane. What was he even doing awake at. I wondered if I would ever stand again.I was slowly filled with a conviction that she could read my thoughts. In my pain and growing exhaustion it seemed any thoughts of anger or rebellion could be sensed by her and would result in another terrible beating. My sense of identity became detached. My world focused on her and her club. That if my becoming her dog would lessen the pain started seeming a very logical choice.After several days of torture, when my behavior had gotten to a point were. More

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