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"Victor Vincent Fuentes!" I heard the threatening voice of my mother, as soon as Kellin and I stepped into the house.

"Quickly, go upstairs," I whispered to the man next to me. "I'll deal with it."

He obviously trusted my words, because he nodded and stealthily made his way up the stairs without making a sound. I, on the other hand, slowly crept into the kitchen, as it was where I had heard the voice come from. I was almost shaking just by imagining what would happen to me.

As soon as I was in the room, Mother turned around from whatever she was doing. It was still early, so I assumed that she had been making breakfast. The toaster was out and the kettle was nearly boiling.

"Where is Kellin?" was the first thing she asked, talking in a low voice, but I knew that it was going to rise very soon.

"In his room," I replied. My answer seemed to make her relieved, but that was not a good sign for me. It only meant that she was free to do whatever she wanted because it was hard to hear anything that went on downstairs, if you were upstairs.

There was a long pause during which the woman menacingly gazed at me, while I wanted to cower away. Most people would be wondering how such a small and harmless person could have this affect on me, but she had more power than I could ever imagine.

"Do you know what day it was yesterday?" She spat, inching closer, after placing down the knife she was cutting vegetables with.

"August 3rd." I gulped, knowing fully that I had messed up and it would not go unpunished. I prayed that Papa or Mike would enter and stand by my side, but that was impossible. No one was insane enough to go against my mother.

"And what were you supposed to be doing on August 3rd?" The woman hissed. By now she was standing directly in front of me and I bit my lip, looking off to the side to avoid her needle-like glare.

"I was supposed to be helping out in the basement," I whispered, afraid that saying it any louder would be the death of me.

"Why were you not there?" Her tone held so much menace all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and fade away.

"I was out, exploring with Kellin."

"That is unacceptable!" As soon as the last word left her lips, I felt the rough collision of her palm against my left cheek and the sting of the impact was quick to come. My head flipped to the right with the force of the hit. I honestly did not know why that surprised me. It was not often that Mother hit me but, when she did, I knew it was deserved and I did not blame her for it. This was my fault.

"You just never learn, do you?" She carried on as if nothing happened, ignoring the water which was slowly building up in my eyes. I did not want it there, but some things cannot be stopped. "I think I'm going to have to teach you a proper lesson, this time." Mother thought for a while, then glanced behind her as if she had thought of the greatest idea. "Go to the sink and put your hands over it."

Hesitantly, and slightly dazed from the burning in my cheek, I silently made my way over to the kitchen sink. My hands were shaking as I held them out in front of me, but I tried to keep them as still as possible, in place. I decided that closing my eyes would be the best option because I would rather feel than see what she was going to do to me.

"Ma, I'm sor-," I tried, but she harshly cut me off.

"'Sorry' won't make it better."

I intently listened to the noises behind me, but all I heard for a few seconds was the loud whistle of the old-fashioned kettle and the sound of my mother clicking it off. Next came the footsteps which inched closer to me and then a long period of silence, before I felt like my hands were on fire.

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