WARNING: The following chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Calix's childish hands pranced on the piano keys as he began to play the sombre piece. Despite being the hands of a mere child, they could stretch past an octave without any issue, one of Calix's many impressive feats. The solemn composition produced an atmosphere that ensnared the audience. 

He felt the intensity of ten thousand pairs of eyes fixated on him. He paid no attention to that growing feeling, yet it somehow continued to bother him. There was much at stake- his mother's reputation was always on the line at every recital, and she made it clear during every practice session. The weight of her expectation was becoming too heavy to handle, and he began to feel it manifesting in his stomach. It was a slow, looming ache at first, a harbinger of what was to come. 

Then, it arrived all at once. The combination of nerves and worry that had twisted and tangled within him burst forward, no longer something that he could ignore. But he still had to power through. For Mother. He was so caught up in the myriad of his thoughts that he moved his hand too far up and missed the notes. Even though he knew the piece like the back of his hand, his thoughts had caused him to misjudge his hand's movement.

The sound that was produced by the piano made his error clear as day. The horrifying clash of notes echoed throughout the recital hall, and Calix felt the energy of the room change almost immediately. He tried his hardest to continue, and continue he did, but several more mistakes were made- and he knew of the consequences that those mistakes would bring. 

By the end of the piece, internally, Calix was a huge mess. Despite the enthusiastic round of applause that he received at the end of his performance, every step he took back to his dressing room made him shudder as he imagined the inevitable. The smiles from the other performers waiting backstage were not enough to alleviate the horror that Calix was feeling.

I've only made mistakes that someone like Mother could notice, none that would be obvious to everyone in the crowd. 

The moment he stepped into the dressing room, he noticed his mother, standing with her hands on her hips in the middle of the dimly lit room. Her sinister stature loomed over the young Calix. Her silence was unsettling. Usually, she would have started pointing out his mistakes by now. He feared closing the door, but he had no choice. The grey door let out an eerie creak as he pulled it shut.

"Useless." 

That was the only word his mother uttered as she sat down on the dressing room chair. She beckoned him forward, and he was compelled to obey her order. The first slap stung his face. It was not anything new to him. This would be the 'apologising for mistakes' section of his piano recitals. At the very least, his mother would only slap him after the recitals, instead of the cane that she always had by her side during practice at home.

"Sorry, Mother."

Calix knelt in atonement in front of Mother. It was a posture that was second nature to him. The same thing at the end of every recital. The second slap was harder than the first, leaving Calix feeling slightly lightheaded. 

"Your usual apologies aren't enough. Can you believe the humiliation I would have to face? Ivy Frost, legendary pianist, having a failure of a son? Obviously, you aren't practising enough! What a useless child!"

Somehow, those words caused a deeper wound than any slap or caning could, especially considering the extra hours that Calix had devoted specifically to perfecting the piece for this recital. After Mother was finally done venting her anger, they left the dressing room. In the foyer, she was greeted by other spectators. 

"Ivy! Your son impresses yet again."

Calix did not recognise the woman who was complimenting Mother, but he had been trained to just nod in gratitude and not say anything. Usually, interactions like these were brief, but the woman bent down and turned to Calix.

"Don't fret about the small mistakes; everyone makes those. It's rare to see someone as young as you playing such a challenging piece so masterfully!"

Calix had no choice but to smile at the woman, holding back his tears. He hid the pain he had felt inside behind his cheery facade.

Don't fret about the small mistakes. Yet, those mistakes are what're stopping me from impressing Mother.

"Of course we won't. Once we get home, I'm going to reward Calix for his hard work today, and we'll be back with something even better next time."

Mother's tone exuded insincerity, but somehow, she had managed to fool the woman they were speaking to. Several more people came up to them to commend Ivy for her son's performance, and Mother replied to them with the same venom in her words. Soon, their chauffeur showed up with one of their cars, and Calix and his mother were ushered into the back seat. The entire journey was silent. Mother did not even act as though Calix was there. That was a little strange, as typically, she would only cease her nagging and ranting when they got home.

Everything seemed normal after they arrived back at their house. He took a long shower, lay on his bed and contemplated his failures. The day had been so exhausting that Calix found himself nodding off to sleep, and before he knew it, he had fallen into a deep slumber. His sleep was dreamless- a rarity for a child with a life such as his. What awoke him, however, was the signal of the beginning of the real nightmare

The unmistakable crash of shattering glass was what stirred him awake from his sleep. The pitch black darkness of the room let Calix know that he had slept for longer than intended. He had to push those thoughts aside and focus. What could have caused that sound outside?