“A dance?” I asked him, incredulous that he still remembered. However, it might’ve been stranger if he hadn’t. It had been a day to remember.
I remembered the pretty white dress he had bought me, how it had hid the boxers that I shoved the needle into. I remembered the way he told me to clean up his mess, the way he soon pulled me away, the way I tried to seduce him, the way I injected him with adrenaline which served to null the effects of getting smashed in the head with the cast iron frying pan.
I remembered the way I had scurried for the keys and successfully gotten into his vehicle and drove off, certain that I was going to find freedom no matter which direction I travelled. I remembered the way he t-boned the vehicle, the way I rolled and rolled, the way he pulled glass from my per
