After what happened last time I was so afraid of getting punched that I didn't hold back. My hand stung as my mother screamed and fell forward. Lying ...n her belly, her hands flew behind her and frantically rubbed her ass, the outline of my fingers clearly visible on the pale skin. She was crying harder than I had ever seen her cry.Dropping to my knees next to her with my hands on the floor and leaning over, I said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was afraid not to hit you hard. Mom, I'm so sorry.". It seemed to worm into her, gnawing away at her flesh until she was just a bloated skin around infinite emptiness. She seemed to pass out again.The next surfacing emotion she became aware of felt like guilt, but not the guilt she'd been familiar with her whole life. It was a new guilt, heaped on top of what had been already there — always there — the everyday guilt of her numerous failings. How she'd failed the expectations of her parents; the irrational guilt she felt for the death of her. More

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