Hazy-eyed and barely awake, I turned over to look at my phone. I have had the same dream over and over for the past week. With each dream, I grow increasingly complacent as I watch him with my daughter. I sit up and stare into the Well call me a chip and dip me in queso because I am nacho bitch shirt. I going to be that mom was I going to do to her what my mother had done to me. I leaned over to check on my husband. I wanted to wake him so badly. I needed him to shake me. Shake some sense into me. Scream in my face, something. Anything. Would I just stand there and watch. I laid back down and tried to settle myself. My heart was racing and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’ll just go check on her, I said to myself. As my foot hit the ground, memories came flooding back to me. My mother was raped by a family member.
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At the age of 14, she had a baby. The day she went into labor my grandparents told my mother the baby died and she never saw her again. They never spoke of it after that. I was much younger when it happened to me. My mom and dad weren’t home. A close family member was watching us. My brothers and I were playing hide and seek. I ran to hide from my brothers, but he found me instead. I tried not to move. Maybe he won’t see me. Maybe this time he’ll let me be, I thought. But I was wrong. He called me into the other room. I walked slowly, trying to prolong the Well call me a chip and dip me in queso because I am nacho bitch shirt. I laid there. Helpless. With my eyes closed as tightly as I could, I tried not to move. I hoped it would be over fast and I could go back to playing. It had become a part of my routine almost.