I throw on his old t-shirt, it smells of him; manly and musky. There are holes where it has worn, but I love it. I pad into the kitchen and put the co...fee on, he likes his strong and black.As I wait for the drip, drip, drip of the machine, my head begins to race. I feel so full of stories, they leech out of my skin and run onto the page themselves. I pick up the notes from the kitchen table and remind myself where we are, today we will write but not for an hour or so yet.He is still sleeping. Finally, Jeffrey, whom I hadn’t noticed, got up off of a black lawn chair. I looked at him and registered with surprise and fear that his eyes were red-rimmed as if he, too, had been crying. Big, strong Jeffery, who was almost eleven, had been crying. “Brian cut the tree,” was all he said. The words didn’t make any sense at first. The tree was still there, I would’ve noticed if it were gone. But I looked at the tree, really looked and I saw the horror that had been put upon our playhouse. The. I got the impression he used the terms “Smoke the pony” and “Hide the Balogna” with some of the foster girls because they looked nervous.“He doesn’t have to ask. He simply needs to tell you, and you will obey,” my mom clarified.“Yes, Ma’am, I will obey,” Honey answered politely.My mom demonstrated what should happen if she needs a reminder that she is there to obey and not put up a fuss. She applied clothespins to Honey’s nipples and clit, and then she applied them to mine and made us walk. I was scared now too."He had followed me. He kicked the knife out of my hand just before it went in. God, I've never seen anyone move as fast as he could. He was so mad he could have spit nails. I found out he was really scared, too. He was afraid he would have been responsible for my death. I had the feeling he'd been through this before, with someone he really loved. He sat with me for awhile, talking to me, and then walked with me till I was almost home." Sammi looked up, desperation in her.