The Blood-Stained Sour Candy
The moment the door opened, everyone in the living room instinctively covered their noses and mouths.
Even Mom, who was always so domineering, gagged at the smell.
Dad froze in the doorway. He stood frozen in place like a statue.
I followed his line of sight and saw myself curled up on the floor. Between the drugs and alcohol, combined with the summer heat, my body had swollen and turned black beyond recognition.
The pool of dried blood at the corner of my mouth split my face in two. There was still something tightly wedged inside my fist.