"Damn, Eden! It's just a burn! Get your ass out of bed and make me a damn sandwich!" It was early the next day and I was having a very hard time getting up. I wanted to go to school. I wanted to see the Winters. I wanted to be anywhere but the place I was. With the way things were looking, I worried I wouldn't be able to return before the end of school in a couple weeks. I worried I wouldn't be alive by then.

On top of the lingering pain of my bruises, my burn was extremely painful and looked far worse than it did the night before. It was a purplish color and very warm to the touch. I forced myself to leave my bed and did all I could to avoid brushing my leg on anything. Seeing as I had not completed any of my chores the night before, I had not been fed and I felt dizzy and weak.

My family was in the living room, surrounding the tv that played a movie. I crept around the kitchen, hoping they would not hear me so I could avoid any confrontation.

"Make sure you wash your hands. You're ugly and gross, loser." Gabriella has snuck into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table, effectively terrifying me. I remembered Gabby's pink nails as she slapped me around. I remembered the way her lips sneered as I fell to the ground, unable to hold myself up. I jumped and hurried to the sink. I struggled to reach the nozzle but made sure to scrub my hands.

"Eden, don't make me ask again! Where the fuck is my sandwich? I shouldn't have to wait to eat!" Momma's voice yelled and I picked up my pace.

I grabbed all the makings for four turkey sandwiches and arranged them on plates with chips. It took all I had to keep myself from taking a little bit of food for myself. The room was spinning around me. My belly was growling loud and I felt weak, nauseous, and faint. I was very hungry.

The skin around my burn throbbed and jerked as I sat Gabby's plate in front of her and handed her a soda. I served the other plates to Gabe, Momma, and Carl.

"Eden! What the hell is this! I didn't want a turkey sandwich! I wanted peanut butter and jelly! You're such a stupid idiot!" Gabriel stood up and slammed the plate onto the living room floor. It shattered and the sandwich and chips flew across the floor.

I stared at the ruined sandwich and wondered if I'd get in trouble for eating it. Surely I could sneak a few bites and they'd never notice.

After snapping out of my inner conflict, I scrambled to clean up the mess. I gathered the pieces of the plate, chips, and sandwich in a pile. Before I could stand up, I felt a hard kick to my belly. "I want a freaking sandwich, you cow! You can clean this up later! Move your ass!" Momma and Carl ignored Gabe, if not for a slight chuckle, and continued watching the movie.

I had great difficulty getting back into the kitchen. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, the room was spinning so bad. I made Gabe's sandwich and cleaned up the mess he made before returning to the kitchen.

Before throwing the pile away, I turned my back from Gabriella and stuffed the slice of turkey into my mouth before she could see. I had completed most of my chores. I desperately needed to sit down, my body resisting any movement and my belly painfully ached with hunger.

But before I could eat or relax, I needed to clean the living room, the room my family still sat in, and various other things. They had not moved, enjoying a movie day and requesting food every time they started a new title. I leaned against the kitchen counter trying to work up the energy to continue.

I snuck into the living room and began to dust the cabinets and trinkets. Despite my efforts to stop it, my body swayed with fatigue and nausea. "You're annoying me, stupid," Momma told me, words of precaution.

I nodded and crawled on my knees to the coffee table and began to clear off the various sodas and plates, scrubbing the food crusted on the surface. I then took the shoes, bags, and socks that had accumulated on the ground since I had last cleaned and put them in their place. I started a load of laundry in the Laundry room and dusted the picture frames of the twins in the hallway. I sighed with a small smile because I had completed my work and could finally eat something.

I assume I was not being quiet enough because when I returned to the living room, Momma grabbed me by my collar, slammed me against the wall, and began to choke me.

I heard the picture frames of my family jostle and fall off onto the floor, shattering into bits like my heart. The movie was forgotten and instead, my momma tried to squeeze the life out of my throat.

"I'm going to fucking kill you! Can't you do anything right? I'm sick of you! Look! There's a mustard stain on the couch! It's your job to clean up and you suck at it! If you could just clean right, maybe you wouldn't have chores to do every day. Maybe we wouldn't have to beat you if you could stay out of trouble. Are you blind as well as remedial? Can't you see we're watching a movie? I could kill you right now! Your brother and sister could care less. Carl wouldn't tell. " Momma's hands got tighter and I struggled harder.

"You are a failure. I've never loved you. I've wanted to smother you since the day you were born. They'll blame me for your bruises and your burns. If you could just do the right thing, you wouldn't have them. When you're dead, I'll tell them your 'pneumonia' killed you. They'll believe me because I'm better than you and nobody cares anyway."

She was killing me. I was running out of energy to struggle. Momma was screaming at me, choking me, and I was powerless to stop it.

Everything was dark. I didn't think about my bruises, didn't feel my burns. I only cared about getting my throat out of my momma's hands. Or maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just let her continue, to end this pain.

Carl put a hand on Momma's shoulder and simply said, "They will know."

Like she had been switched off, Momma dropped me. I scrambled away from her and gasped in mouthfuls of air. Momma paced around the room, screaming and occasionally throwing something in my direction. For the first time, Gabriella and Gabriel looked scared. They sat very still on the couch.

When Momma threw a glass and hit me in the forehead, I sobbed into my fist, cowering in the wall, begging Jesus to help me. The room spun for another reason.

"Get out! Go to your room! Next time, I'll murder you like I should have a long time ago." Her face was red. Her eyes were large, bloodshot, and laced with hate and disappointment. A large vein protruded from her forehead. I stood up and stumbled as fast as I could to pass the four people.

Momma screamed one last time and ran to me. I tucked into a ball, my arms sheltering my head. She kicked me and punched me, screaming for me to leave, each blow causing my breath to constrict. I planned to go straight to my room but the front door seemed to glow, begging me to leave. Carl and the twins surrounded Momma trying to calm her down. They weren't looking.

I snuck out the front door without another glance.

I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. I knew I wasn't walking straight. I stumbled off the sidewalk into the busy street multiple times, tripping and scraping my hands and knees.

Momma's words swirled around my head: You're a failure. I've never loved you.

My forehead was bleeding and I held a hand to it as I walked. I wanted one of the many cars that passed to stop, to ask me if I was alright. Nobody slowed down. Couldn't they see me? I hoped someone would offer me food, water. My head ached and felt heavy. I needed Mrs. Winters. I needed help.