I reread last night's Dear Diary FF and the reviews. I am thinking it is not working, being a half-empty-glass person I prefer angsty...or I will unleash a horrible fluffy bunny. So to make it up to those who reviewed Dear Diary...I like this idea better and I think I can be more creative with it, so I will plan a multi-chapter arc of Christian's childhood. NB: Christian's POV.

O' Children - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Light trickled into the grey room, not reaching his safe haven underneath the wooden table. Large grey orbs framed by long lashes adjusted to the darkness. Christian hid underneath his blankie, on the mound of pillows. He gazed at the familiar surroundings. Debris of bottles, cans and take away boxes decorated the stained carpet. Across the room, Mommy laid on Her stomach on the brown couch. Long chocolate hair sprawled over a sleeping face, Her left arm hanging from the edge of the soiled couch, hand loosely grasping the neck of a bottle.

She looks like an Angel, Christian thought. Mommy's familiar sounds of soft snores resonated against the rotting walls, disrupted by a familiar growl in his tummy. Hungry. Grasping his blue blankie in one small fist, he crawled out of his retreat, poking his head out to check if He was out there. Not here. A tiny boy with unkempt copper hair surfaced from the shadows. He resembled a china doll, fragile and ashen, clothed in undersized pyjamas. He toddled across the messy maze of litter, towards Mommy. Mommy. Kneeling beside Her, he brushed the disarray of brown strands with his little digits, out of Her still face. Soft. He draped the small blankie across Her shoulders. The welcoming smell of his Mommy's cheap perfume filled his small nose. Pretty. The edges of his cerise lips curled upwards.

Thoughts disrupted by the growing rumble in his tummy. So hungry. Glancing one last time at Mommy, Christian stood up. Ambling through the room, grey eyes scanned the room, looking for food. Picking up a strewn take away box, he peeked inside. Noodles. He sniffed the grub, nose scrunching up at the odour, but his tummy protested at the lack of food. Taking the gummy noodles in his right hand, he shoved it in his mouth, hunger overwhelming the off taste. The tang left in his mouth was vile but his appetite was satiated, the pain in his abdomen dulled. It felt like days since he last ate.

Thirsty. Water. He made his way through the room to the washed out bathroom. Tipping on his toes on the white tiles, he pulled the cord beside the looming door. The fluorescent lights flickered on, momentarily blinding him. Christian climbed on the grimy toilet, using it to reach the sink beside it. Turning the tap, he felt the gush of water through his little fingers. Cold. He drank from his cupped hands, quenching his thirst.

Voices shouting curses outside shattered the safe silence. He's here. Christian's eyes widened, his breathing became erratic, muscles shaking. Closing the tap, he crept to the door, stealing a look at the living room. He's not in here. Not yet. Hide. Before He comes. Christian looked around the bleak bathroom. Grey eyes darted to the cupboard beneath the sink. There. He rushed to it, opening the cupboard, there was space, big enough for him to fit. Quick! He curled into the gloomy cupboard, closing the door. Darkness. The smell of disinfectant suffocated him.

Cue the orchestrated sounds playing the familiar concerto of fear and pain...

Heavy footsteps. Silence.

His chest pounded. His breathing was erratic. Two small hands clasp his mouth. Quiet!

Get up! Get up, you fucking bitch! THUD. It's your fault. Your fucking fault. THUD. THUD. THUD. Silence.

The sound of breaking glass pierced the air. The muted sounds of fist meeting limbs, accompanied by stifled cries.

You worthless whore! You are nothing.

Please...I don't...I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

THUD. Silence.

Mommy! Christian covered his ears. No more. No more. No more. Letting go of his mouth, he covered his ears, hopelessly trying to silence the familiar tragic symphony that engulfed him. He cowered further into the darkness, trying to escape the sounds of beating, escape the dark feelings he felt. Anger coursed through the young boy, fear pierced his soul, hurt made his heart heavy.

The little copper-haired boy found solace in the safety of the shadows.