“Preston has been acting pretty weird lately,” his mother said as she sat on the table with her daughter, anticipating the presence of their guest for the night, “don’t you think so?”
Anna rolled her eyes, although she agreed with what her mother said, she wasn’t in the mood to listen to her maul over her son, “Mother, Preston has always been weird. Why are you making a mountain out of a molehill?”
Her mother frowned, “Because that molehill is my son.”
“Put the knife down, mother.”
It was only then that the older woman realized that she was holding the cutlery in a very firm grip. She gasped and looked at Anna, “I’m sorry if that frightened you in anyway.”
Anna only nodded, her mind travelling to her last boyfriend who constantly used to cut her with a knife just so he could watch her
