The Dark Side Of Love

Chapter Nine

Warning: Mention of domestic violence.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

.................................... ........................................... .................

Fear. A feeling he lived with all his life. From the very time when he was just a child. But the first time he felt it gripping his throat making any oxygen unable to reach his lungs with a burning flame over his back was when A mere 13 year old kept shivering in pain as the next whip came on his right shoulder.

"D..da...dad.."

"What happened son, is it hurting..." His eyes bore into the man standing away a little. The constant whip kept coming down by another man in the priest's uniform.

"Sto...stop it please...dad..it..it's hurting me..stop.."

His father's hand was raised making the whip stop. He was still gasping for breath when he felt the rough tug on his chin. His father's eyes were on a level with him as that man leaned down. Staring at him. Silently. With menace clear in those eyes. "You should've thought of it this before trying to sin, my son. Sin is bad remember. People who sin, go to hell. I don't want my son to go to hell."

"I..I didn't do anything Dad." A sob escape the lips from the boy now lying down in the floor, his white t shirt that his mother gifted him just before was drenced in blood. And the same mother was now looking at the same shirt while sitting on a chair. Sipping her wine.

"Shh..it's ok. Just a little more. We need to wash this sin off you. No son of mine will go to hell. We were made for heaven. Only heaven."

The boy didn't understand what was heaven back then. He had a concept. He thought it was something good. Something peaceful. Not like the blood-curling pain, he was going through..Is this how people feel when they're in heaven? He wanted to question his father. But the next whip coming down at his back left him breathless as he screamed.

And he kept screaming. The loud voice of his father eventually get drowned in those screams leaving his lips. But he didn't stop. He kept screaming...and all this while he kept hoping that someone out there will hear him. Will come for him.

Except nobody did. It was only his father, the priest and his mother who was on her second glass by the time he lost his consciousness, lying in a pool of his own blood.

Nobody was there. Nobody came for him. Nobody will come for him today either as he kept trying to curl in himself more trying to get away from the grabbing hands and loud voices. His mobile was thrown away from him by that old man who was again screaming.

"Please stop." He whispered as the man tried to go near him getting blocked by kaownah. "Pleas...please..stop..please..." His hands were over his ears trying to drown the voices. But it wasn't helping. It wasn't helping at all.

"You should feel disgusted with yourself. Such a stealthy bastard...." That man kept screaming. He kept trying. To hide. From himself. From everything. His hands were shaking. Sweat broke over his body as he gasped. To fill his lungs with some air. Except, he forgot. He forgot suddenly how to breath. Everything was enclosing on him. The whispers were back in his head. It's as if he was back to that day. When he cried but nobody heard. "Pl..please..." He kept begging, kept asking for someone, without even realizing whom he was begging to.