Memory, I

Several years ago, I was told by my mother to practice the piano again. I refused, and she beat me with a plastic clothes hanger, screaming that I had to, that I should never refuse my elders. She forced me into the bathroom where she hit me hard enough that the hanger snapped against my hip. The next day, my parents were talking about sending me off for adoption. I went to bed hungry, and lay there wondering whether I should leave. I was afraid that my new family would be worse, but I did not want to stay in this family. My mind went around in circles like this for several hours, but eventually I was told to come out and eat, and I never was sent to be adopted. 

I have a friend who goes through something similar to this frequently. Hearing about her experiences made me remember this incident. I think I was around eight at the time, but I might've already been depressed. How awful is that? 

I still wonder whether I should have told them I wanted to be adopted.