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I'm sorry

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 The blade plunges into my father’s chest. Stab after stab, the blood splashes onto my face. I want to scream. Not out of terror or fear... but victory


He strikes my mother again. Her naked body left bleeding.


“Come on you whore! You are supposed to be making me money! If he tells you to suck his dick, you suck his dick!”


She cries.


It’s always like this


He’s  always like this.


My father turns to me, “Maybe I can make some money off of him!”


“No!” My mother pleads, “He’s only four!”


“Exactly, he should make me plenty.”


My father reaches out and grabs onto my hair.


I cry out in pain.


I’m scared! I want to be with my mother. I want to be held by her.


She shouts out again.


“Please! I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’ll work more! Please don’t let those men rape him!”


My father seems to stop and think. He’s looking at me. A smile creeps onto his chapped lips.


“Alright then,” He shoves me towards her, “If you don't want them to have sex with him then you can have sex with him. I’ll get money letting them watch you two.”


My mother’s gaze falls to the floor. She slowly lets it turn to me. Tears flow down her red, bruised cheeks. I'm tired of seeing that image. Every day it's all I see.


She crawls, on her hands and knees, closer to me.




Her eyes look duller than normal.


"It's going to be okay sweetheart," her voice failed to sound convincing, "E-very...thing w...ill be... fine." She gasped for air between sobs.


She places her hands on my malnourished cheeks.


"Mother?" I ask again.


Her face contorts into a mix of pain, self-hate, and agony.


"I... I can't do-"


She was cut off by a metal pipe to the head.


"Mother!" I find myself crying out.


I see my father pull a knife from his pocket. He advances towards her.


Her eyes widen. She pleads, shouting out her apologies.


The knife rises in the air.




It cuts down.


Please make it stop!


My mother cries out as the blade enters her left breast.


Her body ceases to move.


The knife is discarded in her chest.


The blood trickles down her body.




"There. That bitch wasn't paying her way. I spent more on her than what I was getting."


He turns his back to me.


I creep over to my mother's still warm body.


She looks peaceful... almost relaxed.


I pull the knife from her flesh. The handle was red with blood.


Its feels nice. Almost as if it belongs in my hand.


"Hey, brat!" My father interrupts my thought, "Drop the knife!"


I only look at him.


"Didn't you hear me you little shit? Put. Down. The knife."


My grip only tightens. He sees I'm not going to drop it.


He approaches grabbing my arm.


I push the knife up into the air. It slides across my father's stomach.


"AHHH, Fuck! You little-"


I take the blade and thrust it into his intestines.


He falls. His own blood stains the metal blade.


I lose control over my own body.


The thrill, the sounds, the feelings.


Everything is amazing.


The blade plunges into my father’s chest. Stab after stab, the blood splashes onto my face. I want to scream. Not out of terror or fear... but victory


I hear a voice calling to me.


It sounds as though it is coming from an angel.


"Ka... Kano... Kanou-san. Are you alright?"


It was coming from an angel


I open my eyes, "Ayase?"

"Kanou-san! Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep. You seemed distraught.”

I sit up and ruffle his hair, "It was only a nightmare. Something that can't really happen."

If only I wasn't lying through my teeth.

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to make you some tea? It will wake you up."

I look into his big blue eyes.

Ayase, how can you possibly want to help a man like me... after everything I've done to hurt you.

"Y-yeah, tea would be good."

What would my mother think of me now? I've done the exact same thing to him as my father did to her.

Ayase gets up to leave the bedroom before stopping at the entrance.

"Before I forget, Someya-san father's here."

Then he disappears down the hall. His soft steps fade to nothing and I’m yet again left alone.

With effort, I push myself off the bed and make my way to the living room.

As Ayase said, that damn okama’s father is here.

“Somuku, about damn time you showed your face,” He notices my expression, “What’s wrong?”


“Like hell ‘nothing’! Come on, what’s on your mind.”

I flash him an irritated glare but it does nothing to deter him.

“I… had a nightmare… about my life before.”

“Oh, you mean before me and Kanou found you.”

“Yeah… The night I killed my real father.”

I cover my face with my hand to hide the hurt.

I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“That man is gone now. Kanou wiped out the sex trafficking that caused you and your mother all that pain.”

“That isn’t what’s bothering me!” I yell slapping his hand away, ”It’s Ayase! How can he show kindness to someone like me? I hurt him over and over again!”

“I don’t want to know all the things you’ve done to that boy but now’s your chance to make things right.” He picks up his coat and walks to the door. “What I was going to talk to you about can wait. I’ll take my leave.” With that, he left.

“Kanou-san?” I look over to see Ayase with a tray of tea.

“Ayase, would you like to… come with me to visit my mother’s grave?”

“Her grave?”

“It’s been long overdue. I’d be happy if you would join me.”

He nods, “I’ll come with you.”

“Good. We’ll leave at noon.”

We park the car a few blocks from the cemetery. I filled Ayase in on what happened to my mother and he was reluctantly calm about it. Though, Ayase being Ayase, he showed his sympathy for me.

“I need to pick up some flowers. There’s a shop just down the road.” I hear a small laugh, “What? It would seem disrespectful not to take something.”

“Sorry," He chuckled, “I just can’t see you walking into a flower shop.”

A blush creeps across his face as he gets out of the car. I follow hastily.

We walk for a few blocks. You could smell the flowers before you could see them. The outside of the store had vases filled with vibrant flowers. It was almost too colorful. I hold the door open for Ayase and he says a little, “Thank you.”

“Hello, gentlemen. Anything, in particular, you’re look’n to buy?” We turn to see a teenage boy standing behind the counter.

“We’ll just be looking around a bit,” Ayase responds kindly.

“Alright, let me know if you two need any help.” He replied with a smile.

Ayase looks at me, “Is there anything your mother particularly liked?”


Look Somuku, aren’t those flowers lovely?’ My mother had once pointed to a vase of pink and red carnations that had been sitting on a table. They had made her smile.

“...She liked carnations. The red and pink ones.”

“I’m sure we can find something like that around here.”

We walk out of the shop with a bouquet of carnations. It had a few ferns here and there accompanied by small white flowers. A little red bow was also tied around the stems.

“They look really beautiful, “Ayase pointed out, “They were a good choice.”

“I think they were too,” I reply, “I’m glad you came with me Ayase. I haven’t visited my mother since the day she was killed. I was always afraid too.”

“Afraid? Why?”

“Because I couldn’t save her in time. If I had done things sooner she might still be here. I always wondered what she thought when she saw my father holding the knife. If she wanted me to help her or not.”

“Kanou-san, she would have wanted you safe. If you acted sooner you might not be here… with me.”

A blush dances onto his face. I can only smile at him as we enter the cemetery.

It feels weird being here. All the sights I still remember are all here. It doesn't take us long to get to her grave. Her blank tombstone sits at the top of a small hill. It was black with a wolf howling to the moon. She had told me her favorite animal was the wolf. They were strong and powerful but at the same time gentle and playful.

“Why isn't her name on it?” Ayase observes.

“Because I don't know it. I always called her ‘Mother’, nothing more than that.”

“Oh.” Ayase's voice is quiet and saddened.

I place the flowers on her grave. When we arrived, the sky turned dark with clouds. It looks as though it would rain any second. That's when I saw little water droplets fall onto the headstone.

“We better get going before we get stuck in a downpour. Come on. We'll visit another time.”

“Y-Yes I suppose that would be best.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and we begin to leave.


“I love you, my son.”


I stop.

“Did you hear something?” I ask.

“No. What did it sound like?”

“...Nothing. Never mind.”

We continue out of the cemetery and back home.