Dear mom,
I've been dying to tell you, I remember.
I remember the time I hid in a box under the cabinets.
Shivering, sniffling, hearing you scream "Stop".
I only wanted some peanuts. Dad was in the hall and you in the kitchen.
I threw a tantrum, you pleaded me to stop. I didn't, I should have, but I didn't.
He stomped into the kitchen, a green towel in hand.
The clock struck one, an echoing dong, you shoved me under the shelves.
A loud thud. You fell.
Your...