I Wither

We

Weee! (enthusiastically)
said the kid in the slide.
We?
said the voice you have inside.
We.

*silence*

"We", said the man who never cooperates to
"We", said the man who's only there when you
"We", said the man who went to
"We", said the man who hates
"We", said the man who.
We-
(inhale)
sells to every girl he,
seize to control avery,
thing he kneads to sue,
reel the perspective of you.

We.

"His alarm has been on for hours now, should we just wake him up?"

"No, he might be stressed out and be more irritated if we do."

Days has always been really good, even before. He was such a blessing in our lives. He's always singing, dancing and joking around as a kid and in his early teenage years.

He would be playing with his friends outside and come home late with still so much energy as if he didn't played the whole afternoon.

He was a very bright kid, he'd comprehend sentences and paragraphs he read from books or listened to online. He also visializes things in his own way, in his own way.

He was curious, our little brains oftentimes get mesmerized by how he thinks. He's not academically ahead of the other kids, but he has his authentic wondrous ideas that are far more complex in certain ways.

We were both Christians and born from a Christian family. So when he was starting to get more and more curious about God and the thought of morality, we were torn between worrying and being happy. It was good because he would go to church and read the bible but it was troublesome because he would question our beliefs and practices that I think is alright for a child's health.

I, personally feel attacked everytime he asks about my faith and why he thinks it's worrisome. I would raise my voice at him and try to make him forget about it and just accept my thoughts or opinions. I think that scared him.

One time, we were having midnight snacks when he asked me about death. I was okay with it at first but he started questioning my belief on how people are supposed to go to heaven and all. I raised my voice to try and make him understand that I'm the adult in the conversation but he just spoke up about it as well. He said, "Why do you need to raise your voice? It's only me mom, I'm just wondering." I felt ashamed and beat him up. I said, "You should never question your parents." He was crying, I didn't want to feel sorry because I don't know? Maybe the poison of my ego clogged the veins on my head and started to make me do things.

Can we really blame this on some mythical reason?

He was distant this morning, he woke up and just got out of bed. He left, without a word.

"Not this again."

"Shit."