@mxjennylennon: 1956
Julia had opened to the pitch darkness, the lighting from just inside illuminating the doorstep and what had stood in front of her which she has been abhorred by; her bloodied and tear streaked fifteen year old daughter’s face as she had barely kept herself upright, holding at her hurting arm and looking up at the red haired woman with big eyes, pleading to be let in. Julia’s mouth had been agape as she held the doorframe, murmuring a bit in disbelief. "Oh, Jennifer—" she had nearly wept, carefully and quickly taking her by the trembling hand and led her inside, her own grip shaky as she had seen her child beaten to a pulp. "Who—" her voice caught in her throat, making their way into the kitchen, sitting Jenny down in a chair as she had gone to look for a washcloth, looking back to see the slumped figure as she continued weakly.
"Who did this t'you?"
