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He came back with a knife. He had never used a knife on him before. He pulled Raven up by his hair and slashed down his chest. Tears welled up in Raven's eyes as the pain coursed through him, but he didn't dare scream.

"You don't make a sound anymore. Bet I know what could make you scream." He shoved the boy on the ground and forced his mouth open. He took the knife and stuck it in his mouth, slicing open his tongue and the inside of his cheek.

This time Raven couldn't help it. He screamed. He screamed louder than he ever had. So loud that the black-tinted window in the top of the basement shattered. Sunlight shined into the room for the first time in eight years, and Raven kept screaming.

"Shut up!" His father shouted, shaking him and bashing his body against the ground, but Raven kept screaming. With the window broken, somebody might hear him. He grabbed the golf club, and swung it straight into Raven's temple.

Then everything was silent.

He ran upstairs, trying to find something to quickly cover the window. He found a bit of tarp and quickly ran back down and covered it. He heaved a sigh of relief, it didn't seem like anyone had heard him. He walked back in the kitchen and washed the blood off of his hands.

That's when the front door was kicked open, and suddenly there were three guns pointed at him. He tried to grab for his gun in the drawer, but three shots to the chest put him down before he could even touch the handle.