2x12: Babysitter
Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast
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The Last Day of Living in a Ghetto
I was 10 years old when we moved into a new apartment in a bad neighborhood. We had just been released from a domestic violence shelter, and turning down a cheap house was not an option. My mom came out of the bathroom holding the lid to the toilet tank above her head. She stood by the entrance of the door waiting for him to eventually break in. I saw their headlights before I heard them. The man was still cursing while the police subdued him. He sounded different though, disappointed and defeated.
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