Someone comes home, and I didn’t reconginize them, so I kicked them in the stomach with as much lust as a soccer striker could. The woman doubles over in pain, holding her stomach.

“What was that for?!” the stranger yells at me.

“Who are you?!” I yell right back

“I’m your mother, who do you think I am?!?”

“Your not my mother!”

The woman looks up at me, staring into my confused eyes. She obviously knows me, and I have a feeling I know her, but I’m pretty sure she’s not my mother.

She grabs my hand and drags me into her van.

“What are you doing?! Help!!” I scream but she’s shut the door and locked it. I look at the device with confusion, not knowing how to get out of it. All of the sudden, she’s sitting in the seat next to me and the car is moving.

I start yelling again, not knowing what was happening. The woman looks at me again, worriedly. We arrive at a big building that says “hostage all” as far as I could read.

Hours later, the woman’s told by a doctor:

“She has a concussion.”

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