The Dark Side of Mother

My mom was a very loving and caring person but their was the dark side to Mother that most did not see. I don't know if it was hormones from her hysterectomy or if it was her temper. I just know that when she was mad she turned into someone I don' t even know. How or when it all started is like a fuzzy blur it was sometime around 8 years old. The first time it happened it was like a nightmare and you wake up and your mom is their holding you. I only wish it was so easy to explain away but the bruises and pain reminded me that it was not a bad dream. It would happen in a instant from greasy film on a plastic dish to putting them in the wrong cupboard. I never knew if it would be a simple smack across the face to a wrestling match on the floor. When mamma was mad I always new she had this look in her eye and you just knew. My instincts told me to run but that made her very mad. Running and Running around the house and around the house. Inside the house and over the table and under the table with her chasing me like a cat and mouse. Around the house through the hall into the living room through the bedrooms. Through the laundry room and off through the kitchen where somewhere around the circle in our house she would stop and hide. I was busted as she grabbed me and threw me to the floor. She would sit on top of me with her knees on my shoulders. She called it beating some sense in me. I was pinned down tight and couldn't escape. I could see the carpet comming toward my face and over and over she would bang my head. Sometimes I would wrestle out of it and get almost away. That only resulted in her sitting on my stomach with her knees on my shoulder and bang bang on the back of my head. Then my world goes black into dream land where everything is at peace. The first time she put a pillow under my head and let me sleep on the cold laundry room floor. Then time after time when things got to this point she would put me in my bed. I would awake to her tenderly wiping my brow and trying to wake me up. Knocked out cold each beating. Left sore and bruised from belts and wooden spoons. I just never knew if it would be a simple smacking or something that would leave me waking up in bed.