It all started with his father dying. Christian loved his father, but there were parts of him that scared him. He knew that his father wouldn’t last long, not even after his mother begged him to stop drinking and doing drugs. Some days his father would come home so drunk he would yell at Christian’s mother. The arguments always led to abuse, which Christian was always forced to watch. His father would grab his mother by the hair and smash her face against the counter multiple times. His father would say that this is the way to becoming a man. If she doesn’t listen, just beat the bitch up and have your way; don’t take any backtalk and no isn’t an answer. This lasted until Christian was around eight. Then his father died of overdose. No words were left behind, just a child and his mother, left to fend for themselves.

Shortly after, Christian’s mother started dating again. She would bring home countless men and would do drugs with them. Christian didn’t like how his mother was turning into his father; those nights were spent in his room, under the covers. One day, things seemed to suddenly stop. Christian’s mother didn’t bring anyone home anymore, what was she planning or doing? Instead, she would come home late at night, leaving Christian to starve for a whole day. This was his life, until Christian’s mother brought home a man who never went back. He stayed and made Christian’s home his new home.

He was very nice at first. He never let Christian starve, he never let his mother do drugs, he never left anything go unnoticed in the house. He was too…perfect. Things had to be his way however, or his temper would blow over. One time, Christian’s mother forgot to wash the dishes before he got home and beat her to a pulp. Every night he’d hear something weird. He could swear that he heard his mother moan and cry every night, but he wasn’t sure what was going on. But still, he never asked questions. Christian knew better than that.