I hate the way he treats you, Mummy. The way he makes you feel small when he slams doors and kicks holes in the wall or he stands close and rubs up against you.
And when he throws his dinner at you and shouts this is fucking horrible or this is fucking cold and you duck and it hits the wall behind, I wish I could tell him don’t you treat her like that.
But I’m just a kid. So, instead, not to add to your troubles I become quiet and undemanding and somehow l become small just like you.