They Hid Me Behind A Pillar At My Brother’s Wedding

and his new wife’s lipstick on his cheek.

Four.

Bare feet black with soot. Left arm in a sling made out of a cut-up kitchen towel. Face tucked into my neck like he was trying to crawl back inside my skin.

I was seventeen.

My hair was hacked short because it had burned off on one side. My eyebrows were gone. One sleeve of my T-shirt had melted to my arm continue reading …