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“He didn’t mean what he said, he doesn’t want to hurt us…”
The words spilled put of his mother’s mouth as Toby sobbed hysterically. His golden eyes consistently darting towards the door as his body violently twitched. Fear overwhelming him as he pictured his father walking through the door; only to continue his drunken violence.
“Your Father still loves you.”
He knew his Father loved him; but deep down Toby couldn’t help but feel hatred towards the man.
“But Mama… He….” Toby sobbed. Bringing his little hands up to his face in a desperate attempt to wipe away his tears. He knew his Daddy hated when he cried. Men didn’t cry. He was a pussy for crying.
He was nearly eight years old, He should've known better.
“It’s okay, Come here.” His mother interrupted, wrapping Toby’s frail body in a comforting hug.
But Toby couldn’t calm down. His Daddy had hurt his Mama, and had nearly hurt him.
As Toby hyperventilated he tried to comprehend the situation that had unwravelled before him.
All he had wanted was his Daddy’s help. He wanted his Daddy to help him with his homework.
He had been watching TV, drinking from a brown bottle with a silver label. He could still smell the sour scent on his father’s breath as he shouted at the boy, the stench of his body odour overwhelming his nostrils even after leaving the room.
Why did his Father smell so foul? What did he do that set his Father off?
“Get out of here, you little Fucker!” His Father had shouted at him shortly before an argument between his Mama and Daddy began. The entire time, he stood near a wall, frozen and unable to move while his body jerked and contorted in ways he never knew was possible. During his parent’s argument he couldn’t make out a single word, his ears ringing as his head went fuzzy.
Though Toby had been snapped back into reality as an object slammed against the wall behind him. His body subconsciously turned to look at the hole in the wall, the TV remote on the floor, its batteries laid out on the floor.
His Father had thrown the TV remote at his mother, and it had just barely missed his head, leaving a hole in the wall.
“Mama?…” Toby sobbed, his puffy golden eyes looking up to her.
“Yes, Toby?”
“I don’t wanna be like Daddy, I don’t want to hurt anyone…”
Now he’s twenty-two.
Becoming the very thing he swore he'd never be.