My brother told me to hide Under the table when He’s upset.
I do. I hide Under the table.
The small space Under the table Is our only sanctuary. In here, we are both Safe.
“They’re giving you Trouble again?” he asks. I do not reply. I do not have to. He is only a figment of My imagination.
Clash. Then a scream.
“Why did you **** Yourself?” I ask. My brother does not reply. He only stares, with a gentle smile on his lips.
I wish to rip that beautiful smile off his face.
A scream. Then a clatter; Like of glass pieces shattering all over the floor.
The yelling intensifies. I can hear my mother screaming, Crying. My father curses, Raging with fury. He is knocking off every pieces of furniture in our House.