AIDEN'S P.O.V.

I do not recall the time, but it was during the middle of the night. A night that I can and will never forget. That night that my family was ripped apart. It feels like that it happened yesterday. I have blurry nightmares about it sometimes.

I was six or seven. My brother was only a baby. He was asleep in his crib. Mom was a month pregnant with my sister. I was standing behind the wall next to the stairs. My back was against the wall. My head was around the corner. My parents never noticed my head, so I did not have to pull it back. I was in my pajamas with my duck slippers on my feet. I still have the slippers. And ducks are still one of my favorite animals. I asked Mom to get me a pet duck. She explained that if I can find and care for a duck, I may keep it.

Animals like the real world's do not inhabit Forlot. It is unknown why. I will be lucky to stumble across a duck. It does not matter if it is a duckling or an adult or a girl or a boy. I want a sweet, fluffy duck. I imagine my duck - my friend - following me, thinking that I am its mom. My siblings will adore it too.

I could not sleep because my parents were at it again. I yawned and crawled out of bed. My brother's bedroom was across from mine. I quietly shut his door so he did not awaken and sob at the sounds of our parents' fight. I should have been used to their fights, but I was not. I hurried down the long hall and stood where I was now. My hands were at my sides. I was having hot flashes. If I was not a chicken, I would have confronted Mom and Dad.

Since that Anton, my brother, was born, Mom and Dad had constantly argued. This went on for a year. Almost every day. I wanted to ask them if they no longer loved each other. If they were filing for a divorce. But I could not bring myself to. I did not want it to be confirmed. I wanted to keep hanging onto hope. I prayed every time that they fought. I prayed that God would help them. It was not meant to be, though. Dad was not supposed to be in our lives.

I am shocked that the neighbors did not hear them and check on us. I wish.

"Where are you going?!" Mom shouted. "Where do you think that you are going?!"

Dad stormed to the front door. He was carrying a large suitcase. Mom was stomping behind him. Both of their faces were bright red. Mom's arms were swinging back and forth, and her hands were balled into fists. Despite that she has never been violent or assaulted anybody, I was terrified that she would punch Dad's lights out.

Why did Dad have his suitcase? It was way too early to head to work.

Mom caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder. "You are not going anywhere. I will not let—"

Dad spun around. He did the unthinkable. He placed a hand on her chest and shoved her. She fell on her back and groaned. Before she could climb back up or speak, Dad lifted his foot - and began stomping on her. Arms. Legs. Stomach. Chest. Head. It seemed to last forever.

I knew that what Dad was doing was inhumane. Sinful. I had to contact the police. The hospital. I did not have a cellphone at the time. Mom would give me one once I turned thirteen. Or until something horrible happened to me - like being kidnapped. The only phone available was on the wall in the kitchen. I had to sprint past Dad beating Mom.

What if I could not call the police? What if Dad pushed or pulled me to the floor and stomped on me? I did not want me or Mom to have broken bones. I definitely did not want them to be snapped back together. According to my classmates and the Internet, it hurts like heck. It is one of the worst pains. But I could not watch Dad go at it with Mom. She might pass. My siblings and I were losing Dad. We could not also lose Mom. We could not be orphans. We would be split up and not survive.

I should take a chance. Run fast, Aiden. Run and never look back. Grab the phone and hide. You can do it.

Before I could, Dad stopped. He was still staring at her now bruised body and took a couple steps back. Purple and blue bruises covered her skin. He looked disgusted - by what he did maybe?

Mom's arms and legs were spread out. She was lifeless. I managed to hold in tears so Dad would not hear me. I figured that she was dead or on death's doorstep. I had to act right now. No more procrastinating. No way was Dad getting away with his heinous crime.

Dad spoke in a harsh, emotionless tone. "You and your dumb kids will not need to worry about me anymore. I am starting a new life. I should have long ago."

Was he leaving us? Was he really abandoning his three children and his wife just to start a new life? What was wrong with the life that he had now? We all loved him. And did he call me and my siblings dumb? Why?

This is when I stopped calling him Dad.

I got in a running position and counted to three. "One. Two. Three." I dashed downstairs and past my parents. I entered the kitchen and grabbed the phone.

"Aiden! What are you doing?!" Dad demanded.

I ignored him and dialed 777. I hid under the sink with the doors shut.

"Do not make me hurt you!"