I could see the venom in her black eyes. I’d never seen my mom in this deep of a rage. Her eyes held murder.
“Why did you have to chase away the one thing that was good in my life!?” my mom yelled.
This time my mom charged me with two hands held out in front and went right for my throat. Before I could react, I was being choked. Hard.
I fought for breath. But my mom’s grip was iron. It was truly meant to kill.
The rage flooded me, and this time I couldn’t stop it. I could feel the familiar, prickly heat, starting at my toes, and working its way up through my arms and shoulders. I let it envelop me. As it did, the muscles in my neck bulged. Without doing a thing, my mom’s grip loosened.
My mom must have seen the transformation begin, because she suddenly looked afraid. I threw my head
