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He walked into the kitchen, and when he saw me, his anger just seemed to swell up.<\/p>\n
He started yelling, saying it was my fault his life was a mess, that I cared more about the house and my old junk than I did about him.<\/p>\n
I got up slowly and said, \u201cSon, go to bed. You\u2019re not well.\u201d<\/p>\n
That\u2019s all it took. That was the trigger.<\/p>\n
He came at me, a forty-one-year-old man, strong, against his own mother. He grabbed me by my arms and shook me so hard I felt my teeth rattle, and then he shoved me. I went flying into the china cabinet. The hardwood hit my back, and my head cracked against the glass.<\/p>\n
And it didn\u2019t stop there.<\/p>\n
He raised his hand and slapped me across the face. The sound was loud. The pain was hot. I tasted iron in my mouth right away. My lip was split.<\/p>\n
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