I remember Mom.
I miss her.
I remember when she fixed a cut on my knee. When she scolded me for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
I remember her reading me stories before bed. When she'd stroke my hair and coo me to sleep when I had a bad dream. When she let me sleep in her bed with dad when the thunder scared me too bad.
I remember helping me riding a bike. Helping me bake cookies for my class in first grade, she was wiping flour from my cheek. My first day, she was there.
I remember when she pushed me out of the way of that car only to get hit herself. The way her body rolled off the car, fell to the ground, looking broken like one of the dolls she'd mended for me. The blood pouring from her nose and mouth, the light leaving her eyes, her relieved smile when she saw I was okay.
Then she was gone.
I loved the way that bastard stopped for a second. I thought he'd get out, but all the shit face did was drive away when he saw the carnage.
I ran to her. I shook her lifeless body. I t