The car smelled like cigarettes and sweat. The air was thick with anger.

“You never shut up, do you?” my father spat, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a useless—” My mother’s voice cut off as his hand flew across her face.

Smack!!

The slap echoed in the car. Sharp. Loud. I flinched.

Her head snapped to the side. And then—she slumped forward.

She didn’t scream. Didn’t fight back.

Her seatbelt caught her, stopping her body from falling completely. But her head hung down, her chin nearly touching her chest. Her arms dangled uselessly at her sides.

“Don’t ignore me, dammit!” my father roared, hand still on the wheel “fucking useless!”

She didn’t respond.

My hands clenched my lap. My throat burned.

The car kept moving. The road stretched on. And my mother—

I stared at her from backseat.

Something was wrong.

She wasn’t moving.