Hi guys, this is just a random let's call it an excerpt because I don't think I'll leave it as a one-shot. Obviously very short but I'd like to get some feedback on...

*if you liked it

*the style

*the story in general and your interpretation of what happened

Thank you!

Vera sat on the front porch, inhaling the bitter drag of her cigarette. She hated the taste and the smell but needed a distraction. She carefully grazed the skin beside her right eye and winced, how dare he do this to her, fucking weak! All men are, she concluded. Heavy tears began to brim her eyes, blurring the world. It hurt, it really fucking hurt, holding her chest she let out a rigid breath. She pushed her thoughts back, suppressing everything as usual. Thinking too much about her life wouldn't help anything. Thinking too much about how disgusting that monster is to have the nerveā€¦ and in front of the kids! They're growing up now, they're not blind anymore.

And that bitch, the whore who is making it all worse. How dare she come into my house and sit there as if she's not fucking my Goddamn husband in MY house! Do they not think I can't feel the sexual tension? The longing glances and hidden smiles. Or smell they're afternoon sex when I get home? She fucking glows! Jeff isn't 20 anymore, he's a pervert, she's probably sleeping with our son as well, that little jail-bait slut. Why do black men always want a white woman? I'll tell you why, because they're fucking weak that's why. They let their men control them. Well I'm sorry if Jeff isn't fucking strong enough to handle me, so he has to prove his manhood with muscles. Dumbass, I'm still stronger and lot fucking smarter.

"Mama?" timid little Nessa's voice cried through the screen. Vera clenched her fist and let out a breath.

"What is it baby? You should be in bed," she spoke like a brick of wood, not fooling her 4 year old.

"I'm scared Mama," she whispered. Vera could probably guess why.

"Scared of what, baby?" she asked taking another drag of smoke.

"Daddy," Nessa gasped, as if she couldn't believe she had said that. Vera dug her cigarette into the damp dirt before taking her time to look at her daughter. She examined this tiny person before her, in a pink night shirt, dark curly brown hair budding in every which way atop her head. Her eyes looked black and glossy in the moonlight, her arms clutched to her baby blanket that they should have taken away from her a year ago.

"You should be baby," she said in all seriousness, "but you won't be." With that Vera stood up, walked past the girl and locked herself up in the bathroom with a bottle of Jack and sleeping pills.