Dream #1 – Delilah’s Fish Named Mike
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“You ain’t got no magic, girl!”
I looked up from the television and saw my father slapping my sister across the face. Spit flew out of her gaping mouth as she tumbled to the ground and landed with a solid thud. Her sobs did not have a chance to escape her tiny mouth. He bent over and took her by the throat.
“Get up you little retard.”
I rushed over and threw my arm between my father and my sister. I tried to wedge my body between them. “Stop,” I yelled, “Daddy let her go, don’t hit her anymore, dad stop!”
He released his tight grip on her delicate neck. I managed to push him back. My sister, Delilah, stumbled back and fell to the floor, the locks of her brown, curly hair covered her face. This time she managed to get the sobs out of her, she managed to express her fear and hatred in a torrent of tears and whispered curses.
“You know what she said,” my father spat out, “she said we were havin’ lobster for dinner. She said she was gonna make it out of that box of mash potatoes. What kinda crazy talk is that, boy?”
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