I asked her again, to which she started crying and wrapped her hands around my hip.“my dad is also an alcohol addict and my mother don’t want to l...sten to anything” I didn’t know what to tell, what to do. “my life is over, the soon I get used to all these beatings.., the better it is,” she said. I got angry.“how could educated women like you talk like this?” I said. She stopped crying and was quiet for a while. I was a bit uncomfortable, as no lady ever had held me like this. I had no. "I saw Martha Jane on our front porch once or twice in the early summer. On July 4th we attended a big open-lawn picnic in the project and went to bed together while my mom and future step-dad went down to the waterfront to see fireworks. By August she had disappeared. Once I knocked on her front door, expecting her mother to answer. But no one did. My Mom didn't mention her. It seemed Martha Jane had been swallowed into nowhere. Knowing she was in summer classes, I assumed a break would occur. Mike’s chest began to heave with heavy sobs – he looked Chen directly in the eyes as his flooded with tears, exclaimed ‘oh Chen!’ – threw his arms around Chen, buried his head against Chen’s neck, and began crying like a child – releasing a tidal wave of pent up emotions – the dam had been broken – his soul was finally free – and this man – this gorgeous, wonderful man – was the one who had done it. Mike’s legs were spread apart as he sat on the bar stool, and Chen stepped in between them to. Still semi-drunk from all the drinking the night before, I rolled over in a strange bed and hit air. The place where I’d expected to bump into Jill was empty, just a hole on Jill’s side of the bed. No one to kiss, snuggle or wrap my arm around. Just air.Jolted rudely awake by this realization, the clock told me it was four in the morning. A feeling of slow, rumbling dread built in my gut and spread to the left side of my chest. But still, I needed to first use the bathroom. This physical.
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