Mild warning on this one   

            He got the phone call when he was still in school. They called him out to the principal’s office and everyone had looked at him, thinking that he was in trouble. When he followed the counselor down the hall and into the office, he saw a crowd of policemen and his aunt crying. There was a heavy feeling in his heart and his principal walked up to him with a grave expression on his face.

            “Junhong, I’m afraid both your parents passed away.”

            He heard the words but didn’t comprehend. The sheer possibility of not being able to see his mother again tore at his heart. His father, he could live without, but both were such commanding presences that he couldn’t possibly see how they were gone.

            “How?” Maybe if he knew the means then he could picture it. Right now, his entire body felt numb. “Car accident?” There was no other way the two of them could have died at the same time.

            His aunt sobbed harder in the background and the policeman stepped out. His face was stoic as he shook his head. “Homicide, suicide.”

            The horrific images that flashed through Junhong’s head prepared him for it. How many times have he heard his parents fighting and think, ‘when would he kill her?’” And now, he has. He’s killed her and himself, apparently.

            “How?” he asked again. There was a morbid thirst for more information. He wanted to be able to see the whole thing, to picture what went on.

            Another investigator stepped forward and he couldn’t help but laugh. How many people did it take to get the entire story straight? “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come down to the police station with us and we ask you some questions.”

            He went with them because what did he have to hide?
            The interrogations made him uncomfortable. They asked if his father had done anything to him or if he had seen anything happen to his mother. “If you’re talking about child molestation, the answer would be no. If you’re talking about domestic abuse, the answer is yes.”

            Junhong didn’t understand why he was putting on such an attitude. The police were trying to help. But for some reason, he felt aggressive, as if they were trying to pin the entire blame on his father.

            “They fought a lot and my dad would hit my mom. It’s the occasional slap to the face and the wrist grabbing. She would scream back at him and he would get marked up.”

            The police wrote everything he said down and looked at him. “Anything else? Could there be a reason as to why your father would hit her?”

            He shrugged. “Terrible temper, I suppose. What else could it be?” He was dodging the questions but the policeman was staring at him and he felt a spasm of fear. Could he have found out? How? He knew his father knew but he had always told Junhong to keep it within the family. If anyone on the outside knew, their family would be shamed.

            “So your father just had a temper and hit your mother when they fought. Do you know why they fought?”

            “Do you fight with your wife?” Junhong asked back. He tried to keep his facial expression as smooth as possible. “Why do you two fight?”

            The questioner ignored the questions and slid a picture over to him. Junhong glanced at it and winced. It was a shot of his mother’s bloody arm. On her forearm, his father had carved the words “.”

            “Does that mean anything to you?”

            His entire world was falling apart and he placed his hands over his eyes. He knew that if he withheld anything, he would eventually be found out. He cried. “My mother was cheating on him. I walked in on them once when I came home and she,” he stopped, wanting to block the memory.

            The policeman nodded and waited. Junhong took a deep breath. “She forced me to get on the bed and did things to me and he did things to me, and I couldn’t tell anyone but I cried at night and my father heard. I didn’t mean to tell him. I didn’t mean to get her killed.”

            He was shaking now. If he hadn’t gone home early, if he hadn’t walked into the room without knocking, if he hadn’t told his father, then maybe both parents would be alive. He let out a tiny moan and curled in on himself, feeling dirty and guilty. The weight of two deaths was on him and he shuddered.

            The police had a counselor come in and they tried to speak to him. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” they assured him.

            He was later taken away to be placed in the special victims unit. As he sat on the bed, with tubes attached to his arm, he wondered to himself if the police would find out the truth. He flicked with the button on his shirt and mentally prepared himself for something else. He was going to need to use all his acting skills later, when he testifies.

            Junhong stared at the wall in front of him and thought back to everything he had told the police and clapped a hand over his mouth to suppress a grin. What he didn’t tell them was that he was the one his mother had cheated with. What he didn’t tell them was that he was also the one who yielded the knife on his father. He had watched his mother been killed and then attacked his father. Junhong had used his father’s own hand to forcefully stab his own heart.

            He thought back with relish at the blood spilled and the jealousy that was finally calmed. He shook off a snicker and leaned his head back against the wall, turning his expression into a forlorn one. If they find him out, he would beg insanity. But for now, he was still a victim. 

This is for JustCallMeA

It took a sicker turn at the end and yeah. It's all the work at my internship settling in and sorry :/