Tiny bird

"Sara's point of view,"

"Why did you talk to him?

Do you have an affair with him?" Angrily, he pulled her hair.

"No, please don't beat me; I never think about cheating on you."

Her sob echoed throughout the house.

"You are lying to me now, witch.

With my own eyes, I saw you talking to him." He forcefully struck her back with his belt.

"He had come here to return Sara's school books."

She rarely expresses her truth between her painful sobs.

"How many times have you slept with him?

Don't you get satisfaction from me?"

He threw her to the ground.

"I consider him a brother, so please have faith in me."

"Shut up, you witch." He smacked her hard once again.

He beat her so much that she could not even get up from her place. She was lying there, unconscious. He was so inebriated that he was unable to stand upright. He turned to face the other direction in search of something to direct his anger at, and when he saw no one living nearby, he began hurling everything in the room.

He shattered the television, tossed the mattress and pillows, and dispersed each item of clothing in the closet. My mom's sobbing, and the cracking of glass was the only sounds audible at midnight.

I peered through the door's lockhole to see what was happening inside. There were shattered lead screens, white feathers swooping across the room, and white sheets stained with my mom's blood. He did not care that his wife was unconscious as he slept on the mattress-less bed. In reality, he didn't give a damn about me or her. All he wants is money from my mom so that he can buy alcohol and then beat her.

I screamed to get the door to open, but nobody heard me. I jumped over the balcony and opened the door because I couldn't leave my mom like this. I called the doctor to check on my mom. She had blood all over her body, and the sight of it terrified me. After using cotton to clean her wounds, the doctor bandaged them.

The doctor informed me that my mom would recover soon. After one month, her wound healed. But for my dad, that wasn't a single event.

He beat her almost every night, and the sound of her sobbing and the tossing of the items stillresonateds in my ears.

Although my dad's wound on my mother's body has fully healed, it is still difficult for me, a seven-year-old, to witness all of this violence. My dad's wounds on my heart still force me to bleed.

Aron's actions today bring all of my previous wounds flooding back. I covered my ear with my palm to ignore the sound of the room crashing. He threw the objects in the same manner as my father did.

I closed my eyes to prevent myself from witnessing the repetition of history, but the darkness behind my eyes transported me back to my childhood years. To prevent him from beating me like my dad battered my mother, I hid behind the drawer.

After a half hour, I became aware of the room's silence and gradually opened my eyes. When I peered behind the cabinet, I saw him. He was lying on the floor, unconscious.

Oh no, what happened to him?

I approached him with fear.

"Aaron, what happened to you?

Please open your eyes." I shook his hand, but he didn't move from his place.

"Oh no, he became unconscious." I looked through the doctor's emergency contact logbook and called his number.

"What happened to him, doctor?" I looked at him with a worried expression.

"It wasn't a serious incident; he had fallen unconscious due to weakness." He can not bear hunger; his body immediately feels low when he doesn't eat on time."

"Oh, so when will he wake up?"

I immediately regret ignoring his warnings. I thought he was joking with me about his hunger. I had never guessed that hunger could truly force someone to transform into a monster.

"Don't worry; he will soon become conscious."

After giving me the medicine, the doctor departed.

"I am sorry, Aron; I didn't have any idea about this."

My eyes welled up with tears as my remorse overcame me. He was still lying, unconscious. His lips dried, and his face turned pale.

Before he wakes up, I have to prepare him for some food. I went into the kitchen to prepare a meal for him. My ankle twist prevented me from even standing straight, but I think I'm to blame for the whole thing, so I had to live with the discomfort and prepare meals for him in retaliation for my error.

Why didn't I give him food when he asked for it? I have to confront this circumstance head-on, even though my body is still shivering from dread as a result of revisiting my childhood trauma.

Aron needs me right now; therefore, I can't get weak. I prepared a variety of dishes for him and patiently waited for him to awaken.

"No, I didn't steal anything, so please don't hit me. leave me.

Mama, please save me.

No, I will not kiss you.

I hate you, Aunty."

He muttered something under his breath.

What's happening to his body?

Drops of sweat appeared on his forehead. His entire body trembles.

"Aaron, please open your eyes." Terrified, I shook his hand.

"Please, Sara, feed me."

My heart flooded with remorse at seeing his face.

He looked at me with a beggar's face, pleading for food.

"Aaron, open your mouth so I can assist you in eating."

I'm not sure why, but when I saw his appalling state, tears welled up in my eyes.

His mouth parted like that of a tiny chick, eager to eat from her mother.

"I am sorry, Aron. Please forgive me." With each spoonful of soup, more tears welled up in my eyes as a result of my remorse.

"Sara, don't worry; you no longer have to be afraid of me. I am fine."

He attempted to rise from the bed, but I recognized that his body was too weak to move, so I assisted him in sitting comfortably on the bed.

Then I helped him feed food. He gave me a silent glance before opening his mouth and allowing me to feed him.

"You cook well, Sara. Would you please prepare my meals every day?"

I debated declining his request out of a desire to avoid any potential connection stemming from my memories of his previous behavior, but ultimately, I gave in and said yes.