Avoir le Cafard

II

Mom had always told him, he must be a good boy if he did not want Dad to treat him badly, he should not answer, he should not go out to play with other children, he should not leave his room without permission, he should not Ask for the little brunettes of his mothers, he should not have his own opinion or thoughts. At the age of six silent he looked prettier.

-Jimin come for my room - I call his father one winter night, one night he would never forget.

-If Father - the little boy 10-year-old orange hair came into his father's room a little frightened; He was afraid, but his mother told him to obey his father in everything. How he wanted to run and hug his mother, it was too bad that he was no longer with him.

-Come and meet Mr. Min - the little one approached until that man in his thirties, black hair, office suit and a cigarette in his right hand.

- A taste, Min Ho Jin,- said the Lord, extending his hand to the little boy who accepted it doubtfully, the man smiled sideways and kissed the back of the boy's hand.

-Park Jimin - Jimin wanted to push his hand away as the lips touched her but he felt the penetrating gaze of his father.

-Well, Jimin, stay with Mr. Min while I'm back - his father stepped forward without giving him a warning look. He must obey.

-Come -Mr. Min touch his legs, Jimin understood after a long five minutes and with fear dominating his body sat on the legs of Mr. Min - Do you know that you are very beautiful? - with boldness the gentleman began to give slight caresses by its small legs, Jimin gulped thick and nodded. It was not the first time a "friend" of his father had touched him like this.

-S-sir ... m-my father ...

-Do not worry -he whispered, bringing his hands to the boy's chest -Your father raised you for this.

(...)

Oh, kid innocent

Oh, a fallen angel without flying

Ooh, child innocent.

it messed up ...

(...)

When he was sixteen, he was lying in that bed of motel with white sheets. He had see looking for fifteen minutes at the door through which that gentleman had left, the money spread on the bed, tonly being covered by sheets, his telephone ringing and The tears falling down her cheeks. He would never get used to it

In silence and with great body ache, rose from the bed, walked to the bathroom and went into the tub while it filled with warm water, closed the tap when it was ready. He plunged into that water, letting himself be carried by the feelings that formed a lump in his throat and turned into tears.

This should not be like that.

His first kiss was in bed ...

His innocence was stolen by wrinkled hands ...

His body was desecrated ...

His father had sold him into a cruel world ...

His life had no value to him ...

The air was lacking in his lungs, a little more and would no longer be present. I should not have to put up with it any longer; But fate hated him too much and that was why he was taken out of the water by a strong pull of hair. It was him

-You not think you'd come home, you fucking shit,? - his father hit him hard on the cheek that brought him back into the tub. Is not he supposed his to protect you?