"Why do you always have to spit on my face every damn time Adrianne?" my father asks after we stare at each other blankly for about five minutes but seemed like an eternity.

I have so much I want to say to the old man but I need to garner enough strength to say it without bursting into tears, I am barely holding them under my eyelids at this point.

At times like this I need my mother the most. She always had a way to deal with him in these kind of situations, sometimes I wonder if he purposely put her away in the hospital and then conveniently planned...