My Mom's Twisted Need for Control

“Where's your New Year's money?! I'm asking you! Where's your New Year's money?!” my mother screamed, her voice breaking. She raised her hand high and slapped me hard across the face. My lip split open. I watched the blood spatter from my mouth onto the books piled high on the table. I stared at the blood, stunned. To my mother, my lowered head was just proof that I refused to obey her.