"Daddy's home! Daddy's home!" Handsome and very well matured little 8 year old Simon Oldin ran as fast as a cheetah after its dinner through the small blue and yellow coloured kitchen to the entrance hall. Waiting ever so tolerantly next to the long wooden wall table to pounce like a ferocious animal onto his father the second he walked through the door, as he did almost every other afternoon.

The small brass door handle rattled in its slightly loose socket within the wooden and glass paned door then very slowly, almost painfully, turned to the right. Simon was jumping up and down on the spot where he stood so patiently in sheer anticipation of his father finally coming home and the possibility of a game and wrestling match or two.

The front door flew open with a loud bang as it slammed hard against the wall, the strong gust of wind pushing it open. Simon excitedly started running toward the landing but stopped dead in his tracks with his little mouth hanging agape and his little green eyes wide with shock when no one was on the other side of the open door. "Dad?"

Jonathon Oldin, a man who looked to be in his mid to late thirties with dark brown and slightly grey streaked hair, green eyes, and not a hint of a wrinkle anywhere in sight upon his sharp features, holding a black leather briefcase in his right hand, jumped out from the green leafy bushes growing beside the landing and yelled in a deep voice, "BOO!"

The scream that escaped from little Simon's pink lips after the playful scare from his father was truly an ear-piercing shriek of fear and excitement that would make an opera singer in the middle of her solo sound as though she were whispering.

Elizabeth dropped her tea towel she was wiping dishes dry with and gripped at the yellow laminate bench top. Her fingernails dug into the hard plastic so hard her fingers started to turn white. She cringed at the sound that her son often made, her eyes squeezed tightly shut more from the memories that the horrible screeching sound evoked deep within her scarred brain more than the glass breaking pitch itself that would surely land him in trouble one of these days soon if he kept it up.

"Simon," she called out from the kitchen to her young son when Elizabeth was finally able to speak again and had let go of the bench top, the circulation returning slowly to her fingers. "I wish you wouldn't scream like that honey, the neighbors will think you're being murdered." She lowered her soft voice so she was talking to no one but herself, "and if you don't stop screaming like that then sooner or later you probably will be."

"He's not going to hear you," her husband called back from the entryway, his deep voice sounding out to her but only just over the high pitched laughter of their child.

Placing the dried dishes in the cupboard and moving over to the sink again, Elizabeth jumped slightly as she heard the front door slam shut a lot harder than usual, probably being pushed by the wind once again.

"Why might that be?" Elizabeth had begun tossing a small salad to go with their dinner when her husband walked into the kitchen to join her.

"Because he's attached to me."

Elizabeth stopped what she was doing, putting her utensils down in the sink and turned around to see her eight-year-old's not-so-little body wrapped tightly around her husband's leg.

"Honey, I'm home," Jonathon said holding his arms wide as though hoping for a big bear hug with a toothy and somewhat unpleasant grin spreading over his face. His thin gray cottony looking suit slightly crinkled here and there and his white shirt un-tucked from wrestling with Simon in the entry way.

With more effort than she thought she had within her Elizabeth forced a fake but believable smile onto her face like she did every other day when her husband decided to return home and she quietly mumbled, "hello darling." Walking over to her husband, Elizabeth kissed Jonathon lightly on the cheek as she usually did. "Simon come on, get off your fathers leg and go for a shower like I asked you to already please."

He opened his innocent bright green eyes and looked up at her in a pleading, puppy-dog way as children do when trying to turn their parents around to get their way. "Oh but Mum!"

"Oh yes well you definitely heard that now didn't you little mister?" Elizabeth stated the question more than asked it with her hands on her hips and a stern look in her eye.

"Not yet Mum, please!" he begged, still wanting to play with his father. Simon missed the presence of Jonathon in the house in the afternoon a lot more than Elizabeth did.

"Shower, now," his father ordered looking down at Simon still attached to his leg, his deep voice sounding much stricter than usual.

Simon let go of his father's leg and stood up with an angry look on his face. His blue school uniform was creased all over and his shorts were pulled down to almost as low as his knees. Looking first at his father then at his mother Elizabeth for some sort of support for his argument, he found none in either of them and quietly sulked off up the stairs to the little blue and white bathroom.

"And how did you go today Elizabeth?" Jonathon asked as he placed his briefcase down on the opposite side of the room before sitting down at the small kitchen table and loosening the tie still hanging around his neck.

'Here we go,' Elizabeth thought to herself with a concealed roll of her bright green eyes.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now if you don't mind Jonathon," Elizabeth whispered quietly in reply before turning back to the bench and continuing tossing the salad she had left behind.

"Well darling, what would you like to talk about then?" Without a hint of doubt Elizabeth noticed the all too familiar note of agitation deep within her husband's unfriendly voice.

"Well Jonathon what I would like to talk about is you spending less time at work if that's at all possible for you, and spending just a little more time with your son."

"Don't start this bullshit again Elizabeth!" Jonathon Oldin spat the words at his wife like a deadly venom that should have taken her down in an instant and shut her up.

Elizabeth was severely irritated now at her husbands' attempt to silence her that she couldn't help but yell back at him, her voice laced with the same venom. "He needs you in his life a bit more, he needs his father in his life more, can't you see he's bloody starved for your attention? He loves you Jonathan and you give him what, a bear hug when you get home from work and a polite little pat on the head before he goes to bed? That's not parenting Jonathan, he's your son and he needs a father!"

"Watch your language Elizabeth," Jonathon hissed through clenched teeth, standing up with such force that it knocked the chair back onto the tiled floor with a loud bang. "You're a woman remember?" He turned his back to her and walked to the other side of the kitchen.

"I'm serious about this Jonathon!" Elizabeth yelled across the kitchen almost pleading with him now.

"WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER COMING HOME?" Throwing his hands in the air animatedly and his voice booming through the little kitchen Jonathon screamed out in anger. "I just don't know why I do it anymore! All you do is bitch and complain every single day about me spending more time with poor neglected little Simon!"

"You just don't get it do you?" Elizabeth yelled back at her husband, her once soft and sultry voice full of rage and irritation now. "He needs you! I don't say these things to make you angry or to argue with you, I really think that maybe you should spend less time at work with those bastards!"

Jonathon took a step back and glared in disgust at his wife for letting such a word escape her lips.

"Oh yes I said a bad word Jonathon," Elizabeth yelled in rage as she took a step forward towards her husband. "And believe it or not it's not the first time! I think you should be spending less time at work and more time with your son! Take him fishing once in a while!"

"He doesn't even like fishing!" Jonathon argued walking around to the other side of the kitchen to get away from Elizabeth who was becoming more and more ferocious as their argument continued. Deep down inside he was very afraid that she might pick up a sharp knife and lunge at him with it if he were too close.

"It's one of the only things he does like Jonathon! And if you were around a little more, maybe you would know that!" Literally seething with anger Elizabeth screamed through tightly clenched teeth and again advanced on her retreating husband.

"I have a lot to do at work." His argument was losing and his viciously fuming wife was backing Jonathon into a tight little corner of the kitchen. He felt he needed to assert his authority over Elizabeth to turn this argument back in his favor.

"Oh no you don't Jonathon! You have a lot to do here and you just don't want to face it! We are supposed to be your family! Take a bloody day off once in a while would you and take Simon out somewhere for a day trip just the two of you. You've taken days off before!"

"If you're going to be like that Elizabeth then FINE!" Looking around frantically Jonathon picked up a stack of white and red ceramic plates they had been given as a wedding gift that were sitting on the bench and with a great heave he lifted them above his head before smashing them on the floor. "I'm going out! DO NOT wait up for me!" He slammed the front door so hard behind him that the central glass pane broke within its frame.

In shock at the anger and rage that had just taken over her entire body, Elizabeth backed herself up against the nearest wall and sunk to the floor crying uncontrollable tears of frustration.

Simon came running down the stairs, his little feet pattering quietly against the timber floor boards and through to the kitchen. He was still fully dressed in his blue school uniform with the black shorts and he looked down at his Mother on the floor with that all too familiar 'not again' look in his eye. Then he directed his gaze to the door his Father had just stormed out through and the little broken glass pane.

Elizabeth opened her bony little arms to him in hope that at least her child still loved her.

Young Simon stood as still as a great Roman statue and didn't move for what felt like hours upon hours to both of them, but in reality was only just a moment. Simon just stood frozen in shock in the entrance hall looking at the cracked pane in the door, upset so deep down inside at how many nights in a row this could actually happen and wondering what he had done to make everything go so very wrong.

"Baby, it's okay," Elizabeth barely managed to choke out in a cracked whisper between uncontrollable sobs.

Simon ran quickly over to his distraught mother sitting in a ball on the kitchen floor, like a rag doll he dropped down into her outstretched arms and broke down crying with her.

"It's okay baby," Elizabeth reassured her son, running her hand through his dirty light brown hair and holding him close. "It's okay sweetie it's not your fault. Everything's going to be okay."

Simon cuddled with his Mother and tried to make her feel better, but this time he didn't believe the reassuring little things she said, and with all too good a reason.

The real problem though, was that this time Elizabeth didn't believe it was all going to be okay herself.

* * * * * * * 

Elizabeth hugged the warm and comforting blankets even tighter around her skinny little body later that night when she heard the front door creak open. Feet shuffled and stumbled around on the timber landing and entryway then the door once again slammed shut.

She was lying perfectly still in her large marital bed and heard her supposedly drunken husband shuffling around somewhere downstairs and talking rather loudly to someone.

Elizabeth thought Jonathon must have been just rambling on to himself in his drunken state until she heard that someone talk back to him. It was only a quiet little mumble and nothing else, but it was definitely another voice that she heard and definitely not one that she thought she knew at all.

Carefully and quietly trying desperately hard not to make a single sound, Elizabeth crawled out of her warm, safe bed and pulled on her pink flannel dressing gown, patting down her slightly matted hair. Warily and quiet as a tiny little mouse on the hunt, she opened her bedroom door and stuck her head out, listening for any unusual noises. From the distance of the voices from where Elizabeth was standing it sounded to her like the two of them were probably in the kitchen.

Elizabeth tiptoed as quietly as she possibly could over to the stairs and leant slightly over the thickly set timber balustrade to hear what her husband and this new person in her house were talking about.

"So you know what you have to do?" That was her husband talking, his voice was unmistakable, especially with the drunken slur.

"I understand," came the visitors' quieter but still deep and manly voice, not a hint of the alcoholic slur that drowned Jonathon's words. Elizabeth definitely didn't know who this person was or what he was doing in her house with Jonathon.

"Good, just don't make it too drawn out. Quick and painless, isn't that what they say?"

"If that's what you prefer." This man was not a person to be messed with; Elizabeth could feel it in his icy tone of voice, the gift of hers was kicking in and a deep feeling of fear came over her from knowing that this strange and potentially deadly man was sitting in her kitchen talking in almost hushed whispers to her husband.

"You can stay on the lounge until the time."

"May I have a blanket?"

"Sure." A scuffle of one of the kitchen chairs being moved across the tiles and footsteps crossed the floor.

Elizabeth moved herself back from the balustrade and closer to the bedroom door she had emerged from moments before. The linen cupboard Jonathon walked towards was right below the landing at the top of the stairs where Elizabeth had just been standing, all Jonathon had to do was look up and he would still see her standing in front of their bedroom door.

As he rummaged through the linen cupboard looking for a blanket suitable for his visitor, something unseen and unspoken made him cock his head up ever so slightly towards the top of the stairs.

Elizabeth quietly eased back towards the door, trying extremely hard with all her might and every ounce of willpower in her body not to make any of the floorboards creak under her moving weight.

Ignoring whatever it was that peaked his interest, Jonathon grabbed the blankets he wanted from the back of the linen cupboard and walked back into the kitchen to find his friend.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you Brian. You've put some very confusing things into perspective for me tonight. I owe you a lot for that."

Elizabeth ran back into the bedroom with the stealth of a lioness avoiding her captors as Jonathon started up the stairs to his bedroom. Some nights the bedroom that they shared seemed to be cavernous in size, tonight however as Elizabeth closed the door behind her, she felt as though she had just locked herself into her own prison cell.

In an instant she had ripped her dressing gown off that had been a gift from Simon on her previous birthday and thrown it aside onto the chair she originally picked it up from before quickly climbing back into the silk sheets of their bed and faked a deep slumber.

"You awake?" Jonathon quietly asked as he walked into the bedroom just milliseconds after she had stopped moving. Not receiving any answer from what seemed to be his sleeping wife, Jonathon kicked both his shoes off and started to undress himself for bed.

Elizabeth didn't dare acknowledge the fact that he was there in the room with her, keeping her eyes tightly closed and the warm blankets tightly wrapped around her skinny body.

"Hell-ew, anyone home?" he asked quietly in a singsong voice, the usual ritual after a fight and a walk out. Jonathon would go out and not return until some ungodly hour of the morning as though nothing had happened. Elizabeth was extremely worried this time though because never before had he come home with a stranger.

Elizabeth stayed as perfectly still as the dead quiet night outside their bedroom window as her husband attempted to get her attention.

"Fair enough," Jonathon unbuckled his belt and nodded his head. "I probably deserve that." Pulling off his socks and pants, Jonathon hopped almost gracefully into bed alongside his wife. "How 'bout now darling?"

Elizabeth felt her husbands' big and rough hand running up her thigh in what he probably thought was a delicate manner. She rolled her eyes at the gesture and tried with all her might not to turn around and slap him. She paid no attention to his unflattering come-on's and caresses until in one swift move Jonathon wrapped both his large bulky arms tightly around her waist and forced himself on top of her.

"Jonathon, what are you doing?" Elizabeth almost shrieked in shock and fear as she struggled under his weight.

"You know what I want Elizabeth, can't arrest me for just being a hot blooded man in this world now can you? Come on baby." With his legs straddling her waist, Jonathon started lifting Elizabeth's nightdress as far as he could before moving his body down so he was positioned between her legs.

"Jonathon, please," Elizabeth begged him to get off of her, he had now restrained both her skinny little wrists above her head with one of his muscular hands. "Jonathon please don't!" Horrible memories of abusive soldiers were coming flooding back to her in tidal waves that she didn't want to remember. Tears of fear were rolling down Elizabeth's cheeks like an overflowing dam in the middle of winter. "Jonathon NO!" She mustered every ounce of strength she never knew she had from every inch of her skinny little body and managed to free one of her hands.

"I am not yours!" In fluster of rage and a violent sweep of anger Elizabeth screamed at her husband, drawing her tightly closed fist back as far as she possibly could and bringing it down just to the left of his stubble covered chin.

Jonathon stopped everything he was doing and just sat on top of her, as completely stunned and taken aback as she was. He reached up and wiped a drop of blood from his lip then looked down at the woman who had just injured him for the first time in his life. "You BITCH!" He slapped one of his big hands down on the side of her face with as much force as he could muster and pulled a tightly clenched fist back, rearing to strike again.

Elizabeth managed to crawl out from underneath his weight just before Jonathon's thick fist came crashing down on the pillow where her head had just been moments before. Running for the door Elizabeth thought she was free, but Jonathon grabbed a tight hold of her arm and dragged her back towards him. Elizabeth kicked out her right foot with every ounce of strength she had within her and made a sharp and forceful contact with the side of his head. Jonathon let go of her arm and stumbled backwards completely off balance, giving Elizabeth the few seconds of freedom from him that she needed to escape.

With all the adrenaline rushing through her body and a great heave, she reefed open the bedroom door which slammed back against the wall before closing on itself from the force.