Two Prayers in Winter
Now that Mia was back, she casually decided to kill two chickens for her.
"Chicken soup is nutritious and especially good for a growing girl. We can eat one, and you can take the other one back to the city," she said as she smiled warmly at my parents, almost as though she had forgotten I was a growing girl, too.
"Go, slaughter the chicken." She shoved the knife into my hand. The cold metal against my skin made me flinch on instinct.
"What are you standing there for? Getting lazy again?!" Grandma kicked me in the back. I stumbled, and the blade of the knife sliced my hand and tore across the chicken's throat. Blood sprayed up and covered my face.