Eight photos from the past which history is darker than the night

Chapter 5

"25th of January, 2007" Max said in a strange, totally changed voice. "The day when everything started... and ended. Then..." it seemed like he hesitated, stopped for a moment, looked up at Pierre, after a second started staring at the photo again. "Then he... he hit me harder for the first time."

Despite Pierre expected to hear that, it shocked him. Because he just got the confirmation on something he never wanted to get. Max Verstappen just said that his father was beating him. In a moment Pierre heard more words, which Max seemed to be saying with difficulty. About how his dad came back home very, very drunk. He was screaming, they didn't make it to the another room in time. He got in an argument with his mother, he wanted to hit her. Max tried to defend his mom, his dad beat him unconscious. His mom was too scared to call the police, because she was intimidated by his father. It was like a fucking movie or something, Pierre thought. He knew that Max's father was bad. But he never thought he can be that bad. That great driver, cheeky and self-confident, Max Verstappen, was a victim of domestic violence. Pierre always knew there was something odd in Max's past. But it was much worse. And then he realized that it was just the beginning of the story.

"My sister did those photos. I don't know how she came up with the idea to do them... she was so scared. There was more photos but basically all of them were very blurred. These two are in the best quality."

Pierre listened carefully. He analyzed all the words which came out of Max's mouth. He looked at the photos, tried to see as many details as it was possible. On the first one was Max's mom at the left, her hands on her head, her mouth open like she was screaming something. Then Max's dad at the right, his arm raised, Max ahead of him, covering himself with his arms. Another one, just Max and his dad, older man's hand slapping kid on his face. Pierre tried to imagine what Max was feeling at that moment. Fuck, how brave he was to trying defend his mom. He was a nine-year-old child, for fuck sake, Pierre thought. He couldn't imagine himself at nine staying right ahead of a drunk, aggressive man to defend someone, even if someone meant his own mother. He would've probably freak out, run away, hide somewhere...

"You weren't afraid?" Pierre asked quietly.

"I was scared as I never was before..." Max whispered. "But I couldn't stand him hurting my mom. I love my mom."

Max wiped away tears from his eyes.

"He dragged me to the another room, be beaten me so hard. I fainted at some moment. When I woke up, everything was hurting me so much. I'll never forget that feeling. My mom was scared to take me to the hospital because of the same reason she didn't call police. She never wanted to tell me what happened after I lost consciousness, how it all ended. But Victoria told me. She told me my mom was begging in front of the door to stop, she was crying. And when my dad got out, he just left the house. They found me lying unconscious on the floor, covered by blood."

Max's voice cracked, he lowered his head even more. He pointed at the shirtless photo.

"My mom took this photo at the same day, when I was a bit better. She wanted to have some kind of evidence. I was barely able to stand. There was more photos. Of my head, my stomach, my back, my arms and legs. I was crying all the time. And she was crying as well. And Victoria too. My mom locked every door in our house, closed the blinds and then locked with us in one of the rooms, where we spent night. We were all so scared he will comeback. I couldn't sleep because everything hurt me so much and I was so, so scared. Next day my mom woke up much earlier than we did. She packed some clothes, booked tickets for the plane to Switzerland, called the taxi and the same day we were at uncle Michael's and auntie Corinna's."

Max pointed at the photo of him and Victoria at the airport.

"My mom did this photo. I don't know why. I never asked. But here it is."

Pierre felt sick.

He couldn't believe in what he was hearing. He hoped he'll wake up soon and it all will turned out to be a fucking dream. But there he was, sitting at the Max's bed, looking at the eight fucking photos and listening to the most fucked up story he ever heard.

"We didn't expect that it was just the beginning of the nightmare" Max said.