I woke up. When I looked to my right Roxana was just climbing out of bed.
“What are you doing?”
She didn’t respond. Her movements were slow but directed.
She started walking. Her hand pressed the door handle down.
My childhood wasn’t easy. First there was no father, then there was one, then my mother was gone.
They arrested her partner. I remember sitting in a large room with brown walls. Many people were staring at me. I sat at a small table. The old man that sat higher to my right scared me. An old woman kept asking me questions.
“Did you hear a fight?”
“What did you see that night?”
“Did he hurt you?”
At some point I started talking. I remember wondering what answers the old lady was looking for. Sometimes, when she seemed unhappy with my answer, I said I remembered something else. Continue reading