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They were shouting again. It had gone on for days, and if I tried to stop them, they'd only yell at me instead.

This time their voices were louder, more angry. The high-pitched, hysterical screeching of my mother, and the contrasting low, rumbling roar of my father's voice.

I quivered as I listened, feeling my heart beat louder in sync with their voices. I heard a crash, and a scream.

I jumped down the stairs, to see my mother laying in the floor, her head bleeding. My dad stood with the remains of a plate in his hands, shaking and seething.

"Mum..." I mumbled, running to her side, trying to shake her awake.

"Get out, Felix." My dad whispered in a menacing tone. "You rotten bastard, get out."

But I didn't, I stayed next to my mother, sobbing as I saw her lifeless figure. She wasn't moving.

"I said get out!" He screamed. "Get out of my house, get out of here!"

I couldn't, I was paralysed, so numb.

"She's dead!" He roared, his face red, and slightly stained with tears. "She's dead, so you have no place here!"

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I still kept shaking my mother. She couldn't be dead.

"YOU'RE NOT MY SON, GET OUT, YOU WORM!" His voice shook the walls, pierced my ears.

I was frozen. So numb... It hurt, it hurt as I felt like my lungs were closing, shutting off the air. It was suffocating, it was unbearable.

Somehow, I got to my feet. Somehow, I ran. I didn't look back, not even once.

I reached the harbour, saw a boat floating. I had to go, get out of here. It didn't matter where I went, anywhere but here.

I just wanted to get away, I was so scared and confused. I wanted to get as far away from my father as I could.

I untied it, and rowed away until my arms ached. When I stopped, and finally looked back, any sign of land was gone.

I was drifting, in a simple rowing boat, in the middle of the sea.

The water slowly seeped into the bottom of the boat, and my bloodstained, shaking hands were desperately trying to scoop it out. My teeth were chattering, and the cold air seemed to freeze my body.

I couldn't cry anymore, I couldn't scream anymore, and I felt as though I couldn't breathe anymore. I had wasted every tear, every sound and every breath I had to give. Giving up would be the simple thing to do, but I was human; I had an overwhelming and futile desire to live.

I felt my eyes drooping, and like a flame, my energy had dwindled until it was just a tiny pinprick of light. It wouldn't be long before it went out, and all that was left was ashes.

My consciousness was fading; I felt bile rising in my throat, I felt myself hit a wave, and slip underneath the surface of the water. My vision went black, as the water entered my lungs.

I could hear something. A voice. I felt hot sand beneath me, and the sound of the sea was distant. I was on land. I was alive.

Someone spoke to me in an incomprehensible language, and I wearily opened my eyes. I screamed hoarsely when I saw a gun pointed at my face.

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