I Am Three by Christina Scott
“I was raped when I was six.” She keeps driving. She will never talk about it again. “I was pulled up the stairs by my hair when my mother was drunk and high.” I picture blood seeping into her light brown hair. I eat a french fry. “Then she beat your uncle with a crowbar.” I learn to read and tie my shoes the same year I ask for more ginger ale. She cries until her face is swollen and her damp glasses rest on the shimmering plastic of the dining room table.That year I ride circles in the abandoned lot next to our house. My tiny Schwinn, pulling me toward the center, while mother claps.
Christina Scott is a graduate of the MFA Writing Program at Sarah Lawrence College. Her work has appeared in Spry Literary Magazine, Maudlin House, The Quotable, and Animal Literary Magazine. She resides and teaches in Westchester County, New York.