Sana
Ah, I remember now. I don’t know why I ever forgot this feeling before. Perhaps it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way before. The fear and the pain of the hits. I lean my head to the side, smelling the mothballs and the cedar wood. I can’t see anything as it was too dark, but I can hear him outside of the closet doors.
It doesn’t hurt that much when you’re hit, but what really hurts is when you feel the bruise coming. Rising and jutting out of your skin like a dark mountain. It’s been a while since I last saw something like that on my body. Is it weird that it feels like meeting an old friend again? Is it weird that being shoved in a closet bruised and beaten feels incredibly nostalgic? Did Mama feel this way when Okasan died and she’s the one taking all of the be
