It all began on a cold day, when school was out and I was just beginning to wake. I heard them fighting again, my parents that is, and this time it sounded especially violent. I rubbed my eyes, then stood; back then I was very small and only eight years old, so I didn't feel I could intervene into their usually affairs, so I went ahead and got dressed as the yelling got louder.
I soon went to my door and cracked it open, peering out into the living room next to my own room. My mother was on her knees, crying, with my step father standing over her, yelling at her to stop being an idiot, and to stop being such a child. His tone chilled me to th