Chapter 2

The darkness of night was starting to fade in the early hours of the morning. I hadn’t slept since the incident. Kept thinking of what I should next. Where should I go? I haven’t got anyone else to go. My grandparents moved to New Jersey after mum died, and my aunt had married a businessman in which they had to move to Denmark taking Andy with them. I sat on a bench in the corner of street. Watching the cars go by. I could have gone to Denmark but my aunt didn’t like me very much. She always used to think I was I boy with bad attitude and behaviour problems, in which she never let Andy near me. She always said that my mum was fool for marrying dad. She never forgave mum for marrying him. My dad had a reputation of being big and bad, he was tall and chubby. He never had an expression on his face, always stern looking. Mum always said that she loved dad very mum, but dad never showed her the love or affection she needed.
Mum was a small petite type of women. She had long silky hair down to hips, which sparkled in the light like strands of gold.
She used to tell me bedtime stories of her childhood.
Dad never talked to me much. He never said a nice word to me. Never stroked my hairs, lift me up, play with me or even look at me.

When I was 8 years old Drew and me came running into the sitting room. To show off our school reports. As usual I have go good grades and so had Drew. At that time dad was sitting by the mantle piece concentrating into the fire. When he saw Drew he had a slight smile on his face, and turned to me. He lifted Drew on his lap and looked at his report card. Dad suddenly stated laughing and clapping “ my boy that my boy, you got straight pass, a little behaviour problem but that’s it, well done. As a prize for report I will buy you whatever you want.” I could remember the way Drew said “ Daddy I want a bike”. After Drew had left the room I would go up to dad and place the report card on his. Without looking at the report card he threw it at the floor. Would always feel ashamed of myself like I had done something wrong. I would cry days. Mum would always tell me that Drew was a year younger than me, and that dad loved me as well.
I could still remember the day that dad had bought the blue bike for Drew. Drew was so happy he couldn’t stop jumping. He was so happy. I felt happy for him too, at least dad loved him and mum.
8 years have passed now and still feel like dad would still one day maybe love me, because mum told me to always believe he did.

After mum died all my belief in dad was gone. I felt left alone. No one was there to hug me or even bring me warm milk so it could help me sleep. Dad would never do that. He couldn’t look after him self how was he going to look after Drew and me.
A year after mum’s death when I was 10, dad sent Drew to boarding school. I couldn’t go because I wasn’t as clever as Drew, and Drew would make dad proud.

It was just dad and me. Dad still had no expression on his face. Almost every night he would blame mums death on me. I was too much for her never up to her expectations.
But I new it wasn’t me who killed her. It was dad he always shouted at her and slapped her, kicked her in the tummy, threw her at the walls. He did the same to me too.