Word Count → 000 ::
His entire face was on fire, streams of red running down his face like tears, staining the ground. Never before in his life had he encountered something that had hurt so much physically. Oh he remembered very well the time that his mother had almost died in the snow and the emotional heart break that had caused him, but something that set his nerves blazing so much, never before. Mixed in with the blood were his own actual tears, wet tracks that mingled. He cried not for himself though but for the mother that was so consumed with her stress and pain she had not even recognised him as her son, that he had forced her to resort to violence.
He was drifting far away by the time Temo kneeled down next to him, the rag against the streaming wounds brought a fresh new wave of agony and he screamed. The sound eclipsing the sorrowful lament that came from the house, drowning it out and his sister's whimpering. He pulled back and began to struggle, trying to get out of his father's grip but the hand on his neck was like steel, unbend-able. He whined and the sound soared into a pitch high enough to hurt his own ears.
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