"Why do you keep goin' back to this guy?" I asked, examining the bruises up and down her arms, and the smearing make up she used in an attempt to cover the scars on her body. "I'm afraid to leave." She said into my shirt. "I have a baby with him and not only that, he's usually good to me and Stevie. It's just that alcohol, when he gets drunk he talks with his fist, maybe it's my fault sometimes... I know you probably think I'm stupid." "Not stupid, just blind. You have to leave before things get out of hand.