Memories... [Part 3]

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I slowly peered into an open window and saw a man and a woman who looked to be his parents. He was standing at the far side of the room and the woman, his mother, was sitting quietly on the sofa. She seemed to be happily knitting, but her movements would slow as his father walked in front of her. He was yelling; about what, I don't know, but soon I began to notice the faint quiver of his hands as he paced around and so did he...

His father asked him why he was shaking and asked if he was afraid. His father was clearly agitated and I watched as he grabbed a bottle drew back his arm. At the time I couldn't never have know what would happen next, but nonetheless, I looked away and covered my eyes.

"Mom!!!" I heard him call out as the sound of the bottle shattering against bone.

Over and over, I could hear him hit her furiously, each strike more powerful than the last. Then, silence. I looked back and saw his mother lying on top of him, blood was spilling from her body. She protected him. His tear-filled eyes met mine as if he was pleading me for help. He was only a year older than me and he'd lost everything...

I ran.

Later that day...

I saw him in the alleyway where we always met. His eyes were swollen and he had clearly been crying. As soon as his gaze met mine, the tears began to form.

"I'm sorry," I said with a quivering voice. "I-" He didn't let me finish and pulled me into his embrace.

"It's okay, He said his voice was hoarse, "you didn't do anything wrong." He held me by the hand and lead me out of the alleyway. "From now on, it's just us." He whispered and I nodded in response. The two of us left that town that night, and we never looked back.

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