My encloser

Everyday was torture I wasn’t allowed to hang out with friends the minute I came home from school my mother was there to critique me.She often cuffed my hands to the radiator in my small dark and plain box room.I was often left without meals and was forced to eat the mud in our garden.We lived in a well off neighborhood and our houses were big enough to be separated just enough so they couldn’t hear anything that was going on in the house.My mother was a single mother and of what I have heard I was the product of a 2 week relationship.She was always odd I would say ,I wouldn’t call her weird because I didn’t know any better.She made sure she was the center of everything in my life often even telling me what I learned in school were lies.She would make up stories about what happens to little girls that talk too much.So pretty much all my life I was the ‘mute girl’.When in school she would call me during breaks and berate me with questions and often if I didn’t give her sufficient answers she’d call my teacher in the guise of ‘she’s a troublesome child’.Every teacher hated me thinking I was some horrible person that needed my mom to check up on me all the time.when I went home again she would ask me endless questions that might have seemed like a worried mother was not.If any answer was not to her likening I was handcuffed and beat.My mother even specially bought a whip she loved that thing more than me when she first got it I was whipped even if I had satisfied her.They slowly got lesser in whipping but she cleaned it regularly and even played with it like a child in the garden ,I was never surprised if I saw a dead bird or rabbit in the garden.I always buried the animals our garden was big and had many trees my mother loved privacy there were bushes along the fence that were taller than the fence itself,the trees were specifically picked to have lots of coverage.we had a little shed I. The corner of our garden the most isolated place no one could hear you if you were there you couldn’t even see the lights there.There was the place where she brought me if I was extra bold which meant if she found a hair in the bathroom I didn’t see it was time to go.In there was a dimly lit room only one light bulb dangling from the sealing.There was an old bed in the corner it had plastic all over it next to it was one of those medical trollies the doctors put their tools on but my mother had her torture devices on there.There was a long fridge at the back that held various things and on the walls was her hunting tools.My mother grew up In a hunters family.The walls were wood oak maybe.it hadn’t been glossed so you were prone to splinters.In that freezer at the back my mother held the animals she caught and killed professionally her most prized pieces,but beneath that were my fingernails she pulled out teeth that were pulled as a child and even my pinky toes.

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