Unspoken Feelings

Chapter 1 - The Start

**trigger warning

Being a child, I always found it easy to forget everything. Too quickly to forget about one's kindness due to one's mistake. To forget about one's love due to one's act of ignorance. To have a short temper and get angry or sad without any reasons. To spit out hurtful words without thinking or meaning any of it. We, children are so reckless, selfish, and boastful.

I remember, beside all of a children flaws, we have something else. We have innocence, pure heart. Even when we—I—do something bad, it was not meant to be that way. It's just simply because we didn't know that it would end badly. Every single thing that I do were based on pure curiosity and good-will. How it ends badly, was never a sole point to reach.

But even with my flaws and the unknown understanding of our recklessness, my parents always show love. How they managed to be patient enough with a child like me was outstanding. And being the child I am, I looked at my parents as figures that I identified as "heroes". I like to imitate their actions and even pretending that they have supernatural abilities. Such a role model my parents were to me.

Without even realizing, I imitate even the bad habits of my parents. And that, however, changes everything. I used to be proud at my good behavior. That I managed to control myself in front of everyone and always be the good child my parents want me to be. That makes my parents to relax. A bit too much I think, that they begin to show the bad habits they have. The fact that they are my main role model making it worse, I noticed the 'new' habits they shown to me every day and get used to it and finally picked on the habit.

They however, also noticed the changes in me. They became angry that I have a bad habit, and they tried to remove it. To wash my brain, and to tell me that it's a bad one, you should not do it, et cetera. But they themselves, did not leave the habit. I know that it's hard for adults to change due to how long they have been doing that habit of them. But it doesn't change the fact that it is a bad one!

To find these fact about them make the reckless side of me fueled with anger. How could they! Telling that it is wrong to do bad things but they did it themselves! I'm not as innocent and stupid as they thought me to be. A child is still a child, but a child did understands quicker.

I was around 3 years old, freaking 3 years old, and they accused me because of the bad habit I picked on them. It was just that I forgot to place my shoes in the rack, I placed it behind the door because I've saw my dad doing the same thing, so I thought it's a right thing to do. Guess what, it's not. They got mad and for me to bear the burden of an accusation is fueling me with unrecognizable anger.

The feelings were so unfamiliar that I react in pure instinct. I just went berserk at everything within my reach, destroying what once was my precious toy, or even the things that I should've forbidden to touch. I didn't realize that my anger, just fueled their anger even more and with my outburst, they too lose control. They started yelling, like I used to know. But something else came up, and I never expected any of it to happen.

They hit me...

The anger that was burning inside me suddenly vanished and my senses were flooded with one strong feeling :

Fear.

Irresistible and overwhelming wave of fear washed through me, leaving my body frozen. I'm most definitely scared to death. Every inch of my body dripping sweat, my muscles locked, and my gaze trying to found anything, anything but them. I looked from the corner of my eyes, they raised their hands again. Getting ready for the next hit, I clenched my jaw.

The blow hit me so hard that I staggered. Almost falling to my knees. I don't know why they do this. I felt another wave of fear washed through me, but this time combined with other feelings. There's guilt, disappointment, fear, and most certainly betrayal.

Hit by hit I received. On my hands, head, legs, ass, stomach, back, you name it. When they stopped, I didn't move. I lay there, curled up on the cold cold hard floor. The white tiles contrasting with my dripping blood. The tangy taste in my mouth. My head pounding and I could hear my rapid heartbeat. My hand started to move, wiping the dripping blood from my nose. The only thing that filled my mind is: What just happened?