by Liv Brennan
The first time he hit me, it was all my fault. I knew it was. We were goofing off. Playing around, wrestling on the bed. I accidentally brought my head back and whacked him in the nose. He abruptly rolled me over and slapped me across the face, pushed me hard down into the mattress by my arms, and jumped off the bed.
When he came back to the room, his face was as red as his eyes, and he apologized with tears and pleads for forgiveness. Of course I forgave him. It was my fault.
The first time he hit me, it was all my fault. I knew it was. We were goofing off. Playing around, wrestling on the bed. I accidentally brought my head back and whacked him in the nose. He abruptly rolled me over and slapped me across the face, pushed me hard down into the mattress by my arms, and jumped off the bed.
When he came back to the room, his face was as red as his eyes, and he apologized with tears and pleads for forgiveness. Of course I forgave him. It was my fault.
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