Fading Shadows of Love

Chapter 1

Ander

She ran her fingers through her long, brunette hair, her arm shadowing her olive-toned skin. She looked up at me, emerald green eyes illuminated by the sun's golden rays. "Hi, I'm Breen," she said, extending her hand, and we shook hands. 

"Hi, I'm Ander."

On my first day at kindergarten, the room teemed with children, laughter, and chatter. Yet, I found myself tucked away in a corner with Breen, who sat silently in front of me, her gaze fixed on me for the past ten minutes without a word.

Suddenly, she sprang up and darted toward the door where a woman stood -presumably her mother. She wrapped her arms around her tightly, seeking solace.

When my mother finally arrived to pick me up, it dawned on me how isolated I felt in this sea of familiar faces. Except for Breen, no one seemed to notice my presence.

****

As I stepped into kindergarten, Breen rushed to my side, seizing my hand and pulling me to the toy section. "Why are you so quiet?" she inquired, genuine concern coloring her voice.

Before I could even respond, a toy car came flying, striking me on the head. Without hesitation, Breen shot up, her voice booming across the room "Hey! If any of you dare to lay a finger on my friend Ander, you'll have to deal with me!" The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on us, but no one dared to challenge her resolve.

She settled back down beside me, a reassuring smile gracing her lips. "Don't worry, Ander. I won't let anyone hurt you," she promised. Grateful for her unwavering support, I returned her smile. 

"Thank you, Breen."

7 years later..

30 minutes have already passed and my parents still haven't come to pick me up. Dad must be drunk, god knows what he's doing to my mother.

I never loved him and I never will. He is always drunk and he beats my mother. He beats her even when he is not drunk. I made a promise to myself and my mother that I will never be like him and that one day I will help her out of this hell.

He raped her a couple of times, once he tied me to a chair, he made me watch it, I cried out loud and screamed, every time I tried to close my eyes, he yelled at me to open my eyes and not to cry, that I will never be a real man, real man don't cry when a woman cries, then she's a whore, he always called my mother a whore, every time I cried he always tells me that I'm pussy and that a men don't cry.

When I was 5 years old my mother bought me a dog for my birthday, my father shot him with a gun right in front of my eyes. He said that it would only soften me, that I need to be a man.

****

As I sit in the car with Breen's mother, the tension in my chest tightens with every passing moment. The argument I know all too well echoes in my mind, a haunting soundtrack to the turmoil awaiting me at home.

Breen's mother's gentle voice breaks through my thoughts, offering me a lifeline out of this nightmare. I nod silently, unable to muster the strength to form words. Where are my parents? I don't even want to know.

Breen tries to distract us with cartoons on her phone, but my mind remains consumed by dread. As we pull up to my house, I feel a lump form in my throat. I thank Breen and her mother, my voice hollow and distant.

Stepping out onto the familiar porch, the sound of arguing hits me like a physical blow. I brace myself as I push open the front door, the tension thick in the air.

Before I can even speak, a bottle of beer flies past my head, shattering against the wall. My father's eyes meet mine, his anger palpable as he demands to know where I've been.

I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat. My mother sits on the floor, her tears a silent testament to the agony she endures. My father's rage intensifies, his accusations hurling blame upon blame onto her.

In the midst of the chaos, my mother's silent nod towards the stairs is all the guidance I need. I retreat to my room, locking the door behind me as if it could shield me from the horrors below.

Alone in the darkness, I hear nothing but my mother's cries and my father's shouts. Each moment feels like an eternity, the weight of their pain heavy on my shoulders.

Then, the deafening shot rings out, piercing the silence like a gunshot to my heart. With trembling hands, I descend the stairs, my worst fears realized in the sight before me.

My father sits callously on the sofa, a cruel smirk on his lips. Beside him, my mother lies motionless, her lifeblood staining the floor. My heart shatters as I rush to her side, my hands shaking as I try to stop the bleeding.

My father's laughter echoes in my ears, a chilling reminder of the monster he truly is. With a surge of adrenaline, I find myself lifted off the ground, his hands tightening around my neck with each passing second.

Gasping for air, I manage to choke out a response to his taunts. Released with a violent shove, I land next to my mother, her whispered plea urging me to escape.

With tears streaming down my face, I flee into the night, the sound of my father's shouts fading into the distance. Running through the streets, I cry out for help, my vision blurring as darkness closes in around me.

And then, in the midst of my despair, a pair of arms envelop me, offering solace in the darkness as everything fades to black.