The Tough Questions

You say you wanted to talk about our past. You heard I've been dealing with my own acceptance of what my childhood actually entailed. It seemed you loved hearing how I view him now, how I see what he did and just how wrong it all was. I could almost hear that cheshire cat-like grin cracking through your stone-face over the phone. I hear the jangling of your earrings as you nod your head in agreement while I recount the horrors for you. You say ''Yeah, I was horrified by it all.'' ''He was sick.'' ''He was twisted.'' ''That's exactly why I left him! '' I wonder if you'll still be smiling when I ask you WHY? Tell me Mother.... why, when your new boyfriends house became too crowded with his 5 kids and then your own five, did you take me back to my dad and hand me over like a sacrificial lamb? My pleading cries were ignored. My screams to let me stay with you were ignored. Why, if you KNEW he was so bad... did you give your 10 yr old daughter to him? Don't say you want to talk if you can't handle the tough questions.