Author's POV
The small boy of four years was playing in the garden with some other children. All the children seemed happy. Suddenly the ball from his hands was snatched. He looked upwards to see the person who did this.
There was a lady who was the mother of one of the boys who was playing with him.
" Aunty ball"
He asked but lady was angry and started shouting,
" You can't play with my son."
She gathered all the people who are there and started shouting,
" Boy, like you can't be my friend. We don't even know whose son you are. Your father never introduced your mother. Also bring you after his wife's death. So you must've been the son of some of his whore. And we can't let you play here."
The boy who was four years old didn't understand things properly. But knows that she is talking about his mother and saying that she is not a good woman.
He started crying but no one helped him. That lady drags that boy out of park. His caretaker came to his rescue but it was too late. Boy got buried in his hands and knees because he fell twice while he was being dragged by that woman.
He asked his caretaker,
" Aunty what is whore? Is she my mamma? If yes then why doesn't she leave with us like everyone else's mamma?"" beta you should not use words like whore. Ok and also your father told you na that you don't have mamma then don't ask it ok."
" But aunty everyone has mamma"
Like every time this time also his question about his mother was answered. Slowly he became used to the words like, "son of whore, slut, bitch. And as a kid he did only one thing: crying while sitting in the corner of the house. Where nobody can see him crying.The man around the twenty eight wakes up with a jerk while breathing heavily. He saw this again in his nightmare. But it was not a nightmare for him. It's his reality of life. It's his childhood. Which he always kept hidden behind his smile. He took his phone which was kept beside his bed and saw the time it's 4:30 in the morning. Knowing himself that he won't be able to sleep now he went to get fresh.
Even after getting fresh he is not able to remove his image about his bad childhood he went to his personal gym. And remove his t-shirt. Anyone can see how much he worked on his body by looking at his six pack abs, his toned chest and his biceps.
He took the boxing gloves and started boxing. This is his way of letting out his pain and anger by boxing. He started boxing while remembering all his childhood trauma and with every passing second his speed increased. At last the boxing bag exploded. With that he went on his knees while sweat dripped from his hairs to chest and he was breathing heavily.
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Her claim
Storie d'amoreNobody ever loved him; she was the first who loved him. He did not have a family and then one day she entered into his life and became a world for him. His love, care , anger, attention are everything reserved for her. Everyone thought that he wo...