Chapter 1

Age:5

Christian sat in the corner of the room crying. He accidentally dropped the box of cereal when he was trying to put it in the cupboard, he was too short to reach the cupboard and incidentally the box fell onto the ground. The small pieces of Trix cereal bounces softly onto the tiles of the kitchen floor. Instantly , Samuel, Christian’s father, slammed open the door of his bedroom. He ran to the kitchen to see what the noise came from. Christian silently an fearfully tried to gather the pieces of Trix that lay spread all over the floor.

“Christian!” Samuel boomed.

Christian stood there in fear, his little heart beating very quickly. His slightly long, wavy, jet black hair was slightly disheveled and his little green eyes were filled with tears. He was a slightly chubby child and people always commented on his cuteness; but now he looked even cuter (as if you’d want to grab and hug him this moment) as he stood there, in fear. Any other person would melt away just by seeing his little helpless expression.

Slap!

“How could you do that, Chris, look at this mess!”

“I....I’m sowwy dad!” he sniffled, still having that little baby accent in his words. He looked at his father in fear and just hoped his mother was there to save him.

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Mary decided to work this month since the family needed the extra income, and since Samuel’s shift and her shift at work didn’t overlap, there was always someone at home to be with Christian. She started her work the week before and everything seemed well, so she decided to continue. With her new job, Mary was away everyday of the week from 6am until 1pm. Then Samuel left, and worked until 10pm. At ten they would all eat dinner together and then head off to bed.

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“Christian!” he boomed again.

“Sowwy....S...S..sowwy daddy.” Chris said, wondering why this time his daddy was more mad at him that usual.

Samuel’s voice was loud, strong, and slightly rhaspy. His voice was naturally loud and when he yelled, his voice boomed and filled the room completely. His face showed complete anger, it was red and when that redness contrasted with his sun-lightened, blond hair, he looked like a monster to Chris.

Slap!

“Go to your room Chris, and if I see you before dinner, I’ll hit you with this!” he said loudly, ad he held a broomstick in his hand.

As Chris walked to his room, he felt the burning sensation on his face from the second slap, which was harder than the first. He put his tiny, chubby, little right hand on his cheek and ran around to his room. He then sat in his closet, surrounded by his toys, and hugged his stuffed Shaun the Sheep as he little tears ran down his face.

And that was the first time I got hit, and the first time I wasn’t allowed to eat until mom came home. I sat in my room that day until mom came to find me. She understood what had happened once she saw the Trix, the dried tears, and the mark from the slap still on my face...

Mary sat in front of the closet and asked,

“What happened, Chris?”

“Mommy the box of ceweal feww down.”

“But, your face..”

Chris remembered and began to cry, his pure, childly innocence didn’t allow him to understand why he got slapped, not once, but twice.

“D...D...Daddy,” he was sobbing now, “H...he hit me and it hurt mommy.It hurt alot.”

Mom kissed my cheek, told me it was all right, then made me some food to eat. I don’t recall what happened when dinner time came around, so I guess by then dad had cooled off.






*Author's note: please tell me if you can understand this format of writing, It seems a bit confusing to me, but I wanted to try it out since my friend suggested it.*