|Courtesy of www.feminiya.com|
My brother would give me a Chinese burn when she wasn’t looking.
‘I didn’t mean it!’ he’d say when I screamed.
She’d shake her head. ‘I can’t stay cross. His sweet little face!’
He sneaked up on me at the paddling pool when she was asleep. The sun had gone in and everyone else had left. Hard little fingers twisted my flesh. I turned in agony and saw his violent joy.
I didn’t mean it, the shove in the chest. The head cracked on the concrete bottom, the sweet face under cold water. The crying, the body in a box.