This night I planned a night out with a girl I was a friend with—you know—not really close or anything. I had long hair—curled It before going to school or out for the evening. Be damned in a house that had two girls with long hair and a mother that was a beaautician —could I find a hair brush! NOPE!! Not to save my soul or me either. Down to the basement where mother’s beautician stuff was, up the stairs to all the baths and bedrooms. NOPE! Then the guy with the manhattans barks “what are you looking for?” Viv—um a hairbrush, but um—don’t worry about it. Dad—gets up and downstairs he goes. Viv—duck in the bathroom. Shhh. Shake your hair out and go—-hey dad never mind. I’ve got to leave. Viv— hand on the door. Dad—bolts the stairs grabs Viv by the hair and throws her into the living room.. Viv-lands on the couch. Dad— blistering venom, spitting,cussing, raging, whaling his arms—-PACING THE LENGTH OF THE LIVINGROOM. Dad—only one sentence makes sense as it comes from his mouth, “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is!” Viv—without trepidation “You are”
BAM!!! Viv—lights out!
Beautiful life 