“You cannot just let her get away with everything, you can't.” I slowly placed down my paintbrush, allowing the red paint to run across the page. I held my hands under the table and could feel them clenching into fists as I stared at one, blank spot on the wall. The sounds of my parents arguing rang in my ears as I swallowed hard, closing my eyes tight. My name was called as I grabbed my wet painting and scrunched it up in a ball, tossing it across the room. “ABIGAIL!” That's my name and that's also my mom calling me.
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