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stop a block away from my house to catch my breath. I really don’t want to go home after what happen ed to my mother this morning. I know I will get the worst beating ever and my body can’t take anymore. I feel so broken and damaged, to the point that I know I will never be whole again. I continue to walk home, and when I got close enough I notice the van is gone. My spirits lift a little, and run toward the front door. I walk in and do a search.
                  Yes! I’m finally alone. I need to search my father’s study, and see if he has anything that will tell me more about what he had said that morning. I walk to the only door that was closed in our house. I slowly open the door to reveal a neat and clean room, with a mahogany desk in the middle. I walk to the desk, and notice that there is a brand new laptop sitting there. I wonder where he got the money to get it. I sit at his desk and am very glad to notice that I will be able to hear if anyone pulls up in the driveway. I start with the desk, searching for something that is tied to me; like a birth certificate or something about my childhood. I don’t find anything in the desk, so I get up and move over to the file cabinet. I open the top one to find nothing. I open the second one and BINGO! A whole folder with my name on it sits nestled between the others. Then I hear a car drive up, and I start to panic. I grab the folder and run, shutting the door behind me. I run into my room and place in my closet. Oh shit , I think. I left my bag in the hallway . I know I will pay for that one.
                  “CORDELIA ROSE, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”
    Great , he sounds so mad. I sigh and head for the living room, keeping my fingers crossed that he is just begging for something to eat instead of waiting to beat me.
                  “Yes sir?” I brace myself for what is to come.
                  “You listen, and you listen good. Your mother will have to stay in the hospital until they find out what happened. I know this has something to do with you. I will be staying at the hospital with her, and if I find out you did anything to her, I will beat you so hard you will not be able to move. You may leave my sight.”
    I r un to my bedroom and shut the door. Feeling relieved that I will be alone, I can finally watch T.V. and listen to the radio, and everything else that I have not been allowed to do in more years than I can remember. I hear the door shut, and seconds later the car starts up and leaves. I walk out into the living room, almost tentatively as if I’m afraid he lurks around every corner.
    After I’m sure that he is not sitting in the shadows, waiting for me, I go to the study again and try to turn the knob. I sigh when it doesn’t move an inch. I should have realized he would lock it; my luck isn’t good enough for him to have left it open again. I am somewhat disappointed, but I decide that there are other things I can accomplish while he is away. Like food! I can actually eat normal food! Thank the goddesses! I walk into the kitchen and pull out ham, cheese, bread, and mustard. I make myself a huge sandwich; practically too big for me to bite into. But I don’t care. It is like pure heaven. I’ve never eaten something so good. I finish the sandwich and sit back in relief. Then my stomach starts to hurt and I realize I ate too much. But the pain is bearable, unlike the many punishments I’ve received from my father, and I do not regret the giant sandwich I just inhaled like a starving wolf.
                  As I sit there, basking in the wonderful feeling of my full belly, despite the pains, I start to think about the folder I found. Then I head to my room and grab the folder. I am feeling very nervous, because I don’t know what to expect. I sit on my old ass bed and slowly open it. There was a letter in it, and on the envelope, it said:
    To My Darling Daughter:
    Cordelia Rose