This story reminded me of my mother and no I'm not exaggerating. I grew up in a rural area and our nearest neighbors were over a mile away. My best friend and neighbor would never come to our house although I was always welcome at his house. At school, at PE, I would lie and make up stories about why I was always covered in bruises. Finally, at 14, I realized that I was actually bigger than her and knocked her on her ass and informed her that she wouldn't be beating on me any more. That's when the death threats really started and I had no intention on being the one that was going to die, although I was well aware of how children who killed a parent were vilified in the media. It finally ended with her chasing me down the driveway with a shotgun. I ended up living with one of my older sisters and her family until I turned 17 and talked my dad into signing for me to enlist in the Marines. Years later, one of my older sisters told me that our mother would often ask her why I would never come to visit her. I guess she thought that the way she verbally, psychologically, and physically abused me was normal. Later in life I was diagnosed with PTSD symptoms. Most people assumed it was due to my time spent in a charming little country called Viet Nam. While I didn't lie about it, I let people live with that assumption. I think it's called a lie through omission. I guess I thought it sounded better having been threatened by little men wearing straw hats and carrying AK 47s instead of a little woman with a profane vocabulary and a leather belt. Only my VA shrink knows the truth...