Born a Crime

good times in between were what
allowed it to drag out and escalate
as far as it did. He hit my mom
once, then the next time was three
years later, and it was just a little bit
worse. Then it was two years later,
and it was just a little bit worse.
Then it was a year later, and it was
just a little bit worse. It was
sporadic enough to where you’d
think it wouldn’t happen again, but
it was frequent enough that you
never forgot it was possible. There
was a rhythm to it. I remember one
time, after one terrible incident,
nobody spoke to him for over a
month. No words, no eye contact,