Butter on My Bread

An excerpt from my memoir, Tulip

Image by Ravi Kant

As soon as I entered the dimly lit kitchen the morning after “It” had happened again in fourth grade, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, I remembered our predicament. Mom was missing again. The days leading up to it had been a blur of chaos, most of which left me hiding in my room under the covers drawing myself within a cocoon of safety.