Today is a day that fills me with dread. Each year my body alerts me with aching melancholy, before my brain can acknowledge that it is, in fact, March. Twenty years ago, today (March 20th) I awoke with a knock at my college dorm room door, informing me that my life had been forever changed. The person at the door notified me that my mother had been shot in the foot by my father, but she was going to be okay. At that moment, I was overcome with an eerie confidence that what I was hearing, wasn't quite right. Somehow, I had connected with a source of truth. "She's been shot in the stomach, and she is going to die," screamed a voice in my head. Regretfully, that voice was right. Through no...
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