“Jinyoung, I told you not to go out alone!” His mother fussed over him as he had arrived home, they stood in the large living room of their mansion, “did anything happen? Were there animals out there?”

His Mother’s warm eyes had turned rigid, filled with fear and darkness. In mere seconds, her brown hair that flowed like silk turned frazzled and untidy. When exactly did his mother turn like this?

Jinyoung began on with an explanation in order to reassure his anxious mother, “Mom-”

“Never mind,” she cut him off, eyes cold, “I can't take it anymore, we're heading back to the cit-”

“Mom,” Jinyoung stood rigidly, face void of emotion, “we're not going back to the city. Let me phrase it properly for you, I don't want to go back to the city.”

His Mother became shocked at Jinyoung’s sudden words, her jumbled words came to a halt. “I-I… I'm sorry Jinyoung,” voice falling as she wrapped her arms around his frail body, “I'm sorry…”

Jinyoung's mother, Alice Park, had fallen ill after Jinyoung had been born. Her body as well as her mind was weak, but Jinyoung no matter what words she spat at him, or how much she bickered him, he could not be mad.

“Mom, I want to rest in my room now,” Jinyoung mumbled, her arms still wrapped around him in an uncomfortable manner. “I think you should also rest, you've gotten thinner haven’t you?”

As if she had lost the spirit to fight, she pulled herself away from Jinyoung, keeping her head down as she took herself to her own room. Jinyoung, left alone in the large halls of their house, could only stare at the back of his mother, the fabric of her white dress, outlining the skin and bones beneath its folds.

When did you become like this, Mother...

The door to his home creaked open as Mark pulled on its hinges. The sun was already setting as he had arrived back home and he was sure he would not be able to escape this time.

The inside of his home was dark, no fixtures of light lit but through his youthful eyes Mark could see the unmoving figure that lay slumped in the center of the room.

“Why did you take so long to get back?” Her voice crawled its way to Mark’s ears, sending shivers down his spine. To Mark, the voice was so nostalgic to how he remembered it, but everytime he heard it, it sounded off. Like there was something besides his Mother there.

“I'm sorry, have you eaten yet?” Mark inquired, “It's too dark, should I light a candle?”

“No… I quite like it, it's calming,” her voice cooed, “come over here.”

Mark kicked off his tattered shoes and pushed himself into the darkness till her face came into view. Eyes unfocused, staring right through him. “Who did this to you?” Her slender hands caressed Mark's cheek, thumb the dry blood on his lip.

Mark bit his lip so that no words could escape them. He could not answer. How could he? Tell his own mother that she had beat him?

“Son? Why won't you answer me? Tell me who did this to you, tell me!” Her voice rose to a shout and her fingers moved down to his neck, locking around it so he could not breathe.

“Ngh…” Mark's hands did not raise to stop her from choking him.

A wide smile formed on her face, her eyes gleamed in a way he did not recognize- bloodthirst. Through his pained eyes he saw her face was obscured with joy, pure joy.

“How dare you boy, how dare you beat up my little baby!” Her voice howled in the quiet of night- their hut located in the most deserted areas of the land, no one was going to come and help him.

She threw him down onto the floor, the floorboards creaking from the weight of Mark’s body, her thin fists dug into his stomach, knocking the life out of him. Mark winced in pain, her punches were not strong, her body was frail and carried little weight with them but the bruises from the night before were still crying for peace.

“Mom! It's me your son!” Tears fell down from his eyes and onto his floor, he looked desperately at his Mother’s eyes, searching for the sliver of sanity remaining in there. But there was none

“I don't have a son! He died! I KILLED HIM WITH MY OWN HANDS!” She laughed maniacally, tears staining her face as her eyes glowed with joy.

She pulled herself up from Mark's broken body- his body shaking with fear and tears- and grabbed a thin metal pipe on the wooden floor.

Her hair fell over her eyes so that he could not see them, but suddenly lightning struck and its light glared through her hair. Tears filled her eyes, she still felt something. She struck down on Mark's stomach, the boy letting out a cry as it made contact with his battered body.

Please, stop!