Prologue

^^^your eyes remind me of all those times^^^

^^^i wished you were mine^^^

^^^of all the stories we could have told^^^

^^^of times our lips remain unkissed^^^

.

^^^your eyes remind me^^^

^^^of how we look at each other^^^

^^^with different kinds of affection.^^^

^^^so I turned away.^^^

...*****...

Whack!

The loud sound of something hard hitting the skin resonates within the four walls of the room as a woman lays on the floor.

Two kids stand nearby with their bodies frozen and cold with fear wearing a mask of indifference, practiced over the years which hardly lets any emotion through.

Except for their eyes; which are trembling as they watch their mother lying in front of them battered black and blue while their prick of father stands tall holding a metal ladle which he picked up from the kitchen in another fit of rage.

Their minds are tired and eyes have almost run out of tears to shed. Standing there shivering, waiting and knowing that it's their turn now, they just bow their heads in acceptance for what is about to come as the ladle strikes against their skin and the voice of their father thunders, demanding the answer to his question again and again and again while he continues to strike.

They don't know how to pity the other one, all three of them. For they have been sharing this same fate for the past few years. Ever since they have known him.

For the woman, he's no husband. For the father sitting in another room, listening to the cries of his family at the hands of his own son and blaming his old age for his inability, he is no son at all. For the kids, he is a father. But not a loving one.

So the old man, sitting in his wooden chair looking out the window, closes his ears as another weight is placed over his heart while the kids and the mother close off their emotions as another blow shatters their heart and mind.

At night, they all go back to sleep with another layer of scars and bruises covering their skin while their self respect is buried six feet beneath the ground and the meaning of love fades away from their heart and soul with each passing day.

While the father sleeps calmly, thinking of how righteous he had been teaching his family a lesson which they fail to learn all the time.

Lying to himself again and again that what he did was necessary until the lie itself became the truth for him.

That's how most of the nights passed in this house. The woman turned out to be more and more reserved and withdrawn from the world; losing the little self confidence she has.

The kids learned what they saw and became brute and indifferent as time passed; though not as sick as their father.

The old man is also carrying on with his life, living in the same house, occasionally listening to the sounds at night while his useless wayward son isolates him. Regretting his past, hoping he could have done something to change his him.

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