‘When Did I Become Your Punching Bag?’: The Unspoken Truth of Domestic Violence

I don’t really remember where it all started. Maybe it was when we were arguing that one cold November night. My memory plays games; at times I can feel the winds, hear the hollowness of the winter that resembles but other times, it’s as if someone put snow over my memory like a blanket. That night you got so upset you slammed your own fist down on our dining table.