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Stifled

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"You are breaking God's and my heart" she said, as her usual handwringing and taut face stared upwards as if she was really communicating with some invisible entity on the ceiling. A chuckle rose from my stomach and as it was working its way to my throat I turned quickly away from her as I tried to swallow it back down.

Did she really think she could control me like this?  Using childish Bible tricks and guilt to get her own way?  I was older now, ready to run, ready but for one short year, ready. The years had twisted the bile in my stomach, silence rotting my insides.  I had tried but the futility of my passion for comfirmation was more obvious with every breath and argument I would give. The whole mess, the great emptiness would curse my fight. 

I had learned.  "OK, I won't go". I trudged from her, my mind, thoughts jumbling, yelling as the anger began its usual path. The whining voice from inside me,'why don't you understand? Why, simply put, don't you just get me?' It was often impossible for the inner me to hush the child.

Anger.

The End
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