Prologue
The child shrunk back into the corner of the room, his tiny, starved body curled up in a terrified ball to shield himself against his father's drunken fury. The sound of a bottle smashing, together with his father's roars, sent a shiver of horrible anticipation through the boy's body, as he knew only too well what would follow.
A large, coarse hand grabbed him buy the arm in a crushing, loveless grip and jerked him upwards. The child cried out in pain as his muscles were torn by the violent movement, but this did nothing but increase his father's aggravation. And then came the awful sting, the sting of glass being run over his torso in fast, slashing movements, and then the after sting of the alcohol that the glass had once contained. The boy could do nothing but shut his eyes tightly as tears ran in steady streams down his face while he waited for the abuse to end.
Finally, once his father had quenched the fires of his fury with the blood of his own son, the boy was thrown back into the corner of the room, the dust and vermin excrement that tended to gather there stuck to his wounds. The father then marched into the next room and took his place in a tattered old lounge chair before downing another bottle of booze.
Once the boy was sure his father had become too drunk to hear him, he allowed himself to cry, tears following freely from the pale blue eyes, behind the fringe of filthy blond hair that was mattered with blood and dirt. As the pain of the assault subsided, the boy managed to crawl from the corner of his room to the thin foam mattress in the centre, not bothering to switch off the flickering fluro light above him.
Finally he could escape the world of pain for a few more hours, and return to the world of slumber.