Not My Father, But Close....

It was my mother 's boyfriend. It wasn't a true "hit" but I consider this along the same lines. He moved in with us when I was in second grade. This happened when I was in middle school, I believe. Him, my mom and I were in my mom's bedroom. He was lying on the bed and my mom was in her bathroom doing her hair or something. My mom had the two pictures of mine that made it into the school art show hanging on her bedroom walls. They were both from when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade. He made some wise-a$$ comment about them and I didn't say anything but left the room and on my way out, I pulled the door shut. Let me point out that he was still on the bed, a good 8-10 feet from the door and I did not slam the door, only pulled it shut. I don't even think it latched. I headed to my room, which was right next door, at the end of the hallway. He comes storming out of the room, slams the door into the wall in the process. He starts yelling at me to NEVER slam a door in his face. He grabbed a hold of the front of my shirt and threw me backwards into the foot of my bed. The foodboard on my bed was wavy and had points, (imagine an ocean wave drawn by a kid). My mid-back hit the one point and I lost my breath. Honestly, this is the only time in my life that I couldn't catch my breath and was scared half to death. I could barely get any air in. This is the only time in my life I can remember my mom hugging me. She grabbed me from where I was lying over the foot of my bed, pulled me into her arms, rubbed at my back and yelled at him to get out. I can't remember how long it took me to get my breath back, but it was long enough to scare the be-jeebus out of me. This is the first time I've ever told anyone that story.