He stood at the door for nearly five minutes now as his heart was thumping in his chest as he knew that behind it would be them waiting, and by now they were ether both drunk, screaming at each other or very high or perhaps all of the above. These fear gripped him, making the decision to go into the Motomiya residence one that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

One half, the coward, wanted him to turn and run then never come back but the concerned half did not want to leave her with them. With a dry mouth and shaking hands he reached out, grasping the doorknob. With a subtle turn the darkness greeted with an unnerving nod, it was uncertain if ether one of them were there.

This whole thing began about three years ago, when the little one had just turned thirteen and that is when the abuse started. Simple things like verbal insults and put downs which was normal - at least he thinks is normal but what does he know? - then came the hitting which was slaps and punches to the shoulder, it had gotten worse when they had found the bottle. Now he and she live in constant fear, that terror could be lurking behind every corner ready to pounce on them without warning. These thoughts made him shutter, his ribs were still healing from the last angered encounter a few weeks ago.

Peering into the darkness he could not see nether him nor her, determining it was safe to venture inside. He quietly took off his shoes while the door was closed behind him, reaching for the lights he froze when they flickered on.

He was sitting in the easy chair that was position in front of the door, his face in a stern scowl while those eyes burned into him with hate. It was obvious that he was under the influence of something, backing away in fear he felt the doorknob but did nothing when the unholy terror stood up.

"Where were you?" his voice was cold, even but sharp. He stood only several feet with arms crossed, his hands were gloved - they were always gloved - and that usually meant he was looking for an excuse to deal out punishment.

"I was at work," he was not lying as they had an accident and needed someone to fill in, which he naturally volunteered for. That action is going to cost him dearly, "they had an accident and needed me to fill in for the guy that got hurt."

"And you did not bother to pick up the phone?" the knuckles were straining under the leather, the uneasing sound of the leather stretching could be heard. He face displayed nothing.

Until the fist contacted with the stomach, dropping him to his knees. Coughing while trying to regain his wind a second blow had struck the side of his head, he tasted something metallic in his mouth as usual. When being struck with a pair of brass knuckles the results usually ended up like that, spitting out some blood onto the floor he looked up. "When you are going to late, you pick up the phone." he growled while looking down, "got it?"

"Yeah, yeah." he coughed, "I got it."

The assaulter stood there, "good. Now go join mom, she needs help cleaning the kitchen."

"Yes, Daisuke, I'm right on it." Mr. Motomiya crawled through the apartment until the kitchen where he found his wife on hands and knees scrubbing something while Jun was resting her feet up on her back. The awaiting bucket and scrubby brush near the door was taken as he headed for his wife, he remembered one time they were all happy and laughing in this very room. Now it was the very pit of sorrow that centers their very lives.

What brought the Motomiya family to their knees was hormones, first it took over their daughter Jun with force with the attitude frontline infantry followed by the silent but frightening snide riflemen, all backed with the dreaded and deadly PMS bomb. Daisuke's transformation was more subtle but more dangerous, with the urge to explore the wilderness of women he had became an alpha jerk, usurping Mr. Motomiya' dominance over the family.

A normal family would have knocked both of back into their place, but the Motomiya family were not normal. The daughter was cunning, smart enough to plan out very elaborate schemes and to trick even the most skeptical of authorities into believing her lies, such as the case with the band leader for the Teenage wolves about that illegal money laundering with the off shore account. The son was strong, being in the digital world almost all of the time walking around and climbing things had left his thin limbs stronger then steel. Between them both the elder Motomiya-s did not stand a chance.

Mr. Motomiya cursed those devilish biological needs as he mopped up the drops of blood from the floor, he knew as things were there was no fighting back. The only hope is that the kids would soon leave the nest, in fact this was the only thing that kept him and his wife going.

When the kitchen was finally cleaned from ceiling to floor it was then they were relinquished of their "duties", or as Daisuke would put it; "get back in your hole until further notice work monkeys!"

This release was welcomed by the married couple as they retreat into the only sanctuary in life, the master bed room. It is here they often would ether cower beneath the covers of their large comforters as Daisuke and Jun would fight, tearing up the whole apartment or when they were searching for them to perform a very humiliating task. Sometimes they would climb into the large cabinet and hide in there, they never find them in the cabinet.

After quickly slipping under the covers Mr. and Mrs. Motomiya would often talk and fantasize about ways to get rid of their kids. Tonight was no different.

"It's stupid." Mrs. Motomiya shot down yet another plan by her husband.

"But it could work!"

"But it's stupid."

"But it could work!"

"But it's stupid!"

"What is so stupid about me getting a wig and dressing in drag and impressing a millionaire then have him take our kids?" Mr. Motomiya kind of used jazz hands to gesture the plan's brilliance. "Then at least afterwards we both can go out on lady's night and never pay for our drinks, the drinks of freedom."

"There is some many things wrong with that plan," Mrs. Motomiya said while pitching the bridge of her nose. "I do not know where to even begin."

"Well, I really can't come up with anything else except survive the next two years, that is when Jun will leave for collage."

"Yes, that is when the brain leaves." Mrs. Motomiya smiled as she gripped the hymn of the comforter in gleeful thought, "and when that happens the muscle will not know what to do with himself."

"Yes, when the brain dies the muscle will die too!"

The two lay in bed, entertaining the very dark thoughts though out the night. They hope that this nightmare will end soon.

(Author's corner.)

I could not help but parody all of the those "Motomiya abuse case Num. 3658600165123" fics and their very absurd ways of dealing with it, not only does it seem very out of character but it just pours on the angst. Often going into overkill with suicides, rape and other nasty, horrible no good things.

Come on people, I like a little drama but that is literarily overkill!

Later.