N25 KAIMEI

Father and Mother.

(KAITO POV)

I opened the door to my house. My face, and body were still numb. I held the ice near my cheek where it got punched a lot. I saw a figure facing the other side on the couch. I couldn't see his face. Who was this guy?

"Kaito." My mom said in a sluttery voice. She was drunk of course.

"What do you want, woman." I asked, absolutely annoyed. Especially with that man in here. Who was he? Was it a guy that my mom brought from the bar? Oh well. I shouldn't care.

My mom giggled, and chuckled. "Your father is here!" She beamed in a high pitched voice.

What. I thought he left for good. "What do you (WONDERHOYING!) mean." I toned.

He then turned his head at me. He had a beard, and glasses. His hair was black, and he had very dull eyes. I didn't remember a lot about him. All I knew is that he took me out to get ice cream in the summer when I was four.

"Good evening, Kai." He spoke. Kai? Oh. Oh, yeah. That was the nickname he gave me when I was small. That then unlocked a few memories. He hitted my mother.

"Oh. Hi." I shortly greeted.

"Why is your face swollen?" He asked with a serious tone.

That scared me. He was way more serious than I imagined, and my mom was wrapped around his arm giggling like she was some kid that was getting a toy from a toy store. "Nothing. I fell-"

My mom interjected. "Hee got intoo a fight!" Her words slurred. They must've called her.

"What's this? You got into a fight? Do you know any better? Violence won't solve anything." He explained.

"..Yeah. Sure. You didn't think of that back then." I talked back, and the room went silent.

"Oh, hehehah! Kaito, my sweet baby! He was only playing around!" My mom argued.

"Whatever." I grunted, and walked to my room. Why did I think when I was younger that he was going to make things better if he was here? Absolutely, it didn't change anything. After trying to unpack my things that I had, I heard them speaking.

"What happened to that young boy? He's not being respectful, and he's barely smiling."

"Hehehahehe! Don't worry about him. He's had a long day!" My mother defended me. "Plus, you came all the way here to see me? Correct?"

"I suppose so. I have to see how my son is doing."

The tension grew towards my mother.

"There's nothing special about him. You made him like that anyways. After you left, he hardly came out of his room, so we had to move. He was grown by your anger. You can't blame him for being like that!" She spat.

"Don't talk to me like that. I didn't do anything wrong. You are just a horrible woman, and you're still NOT sober?" My dad complained.

"He already knows his education, and stuff.. Blah blah blah. He should know this is already bad."

"It's a bad example for him in the future. I see this place has all your clothes everywhere." His face grew in disgust.

"Well this is my house? Are you trying to TELL me how to control it?" She looked at him with her eyes narrowing.

"It's just a bad environment for a kid like him-"

"He's not a kid, Abraham. He knows stuff."

"He may look like that, but mentally, you can tell how it's hurting him."

"Like how you left me and him alone for us to stay with little money? Yeah. No (WONDERHOY!)." My mom snapped.

"I wasn't talking about that, Janelle."

"You know damn well it was coming to you." My mom pushed herself away from his chest, and crossed her arms. "You shouldn't be surprised if he's rude to you. He just grew it from you."

What were they talking about?..

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