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I held Hanuel in my arms, watching his mother put on her heels. The now two year old, squirmed as I held him. "Where is mommy going?" Hanuel asked, his voice squeaky and high pitched. I smiled and played with his chunky cheeks, bouncing him up and down on my slim hips. "Mommy's going out with her friends!" Nala exclaimed, readjusting herself. She looked at me and smiled her brilliant smile.

"Well..." I expected her to give me a hug, at least. She caught my cue and gave me a hug and Hanuel a kiss.

"Is there a curfew that I absolutely have to be home by?" She questioned me, putting her hand on her hip. I chuckled in response and waved my hand. I turned around before she could say anything. "You can leave. Just come home and don't have too much fun without me!"

"Bye!" She sped through the door, keys jingling in her hand. I caught a glimpse of her bosom that her dress hugged. Hanuel and I sat on the couch.

"Where is mommy going daddy?" His bottom lip quivered. His cheeks automatically got chubbier, eyes watering. I continued to bounce him on my knee in hopes of trying to calm him down.

"Mommy's going to hang out with her friends, okay?" I cooed gently, running his small back.

"Okay, daddy." Hanuel turned around and slid off of my legs. He waddled to his room without any further words. For a two year old, he was very independent and intelligent, much like his mom. I heard things being thrown about in his room and began to question what he was getting himself into. Right before I decided to get up, a little figure waddled in my direction.

Paint bottles, and crayon packs, and paint brushes, and white paper swallowed the little boy out of sight. He threw everything down in a huff once he got near my feet. Like a puppy wanting a biscuit, Hanuel tilted his head and his eyes got wider.

"Let's paint, daddy!" Hanuel's cuteness made me want to give in. "Hanuel, it's too late at night for us to paint. You have to go to bed now." I stated to him, hoping that he'd understand and won't throw a tantrum. His small yet chubby face scrunched up in disbelief at my words.

"But why?" He clenched his hand tightly around the paint brush he had.

"Hanuel don't question me. If I say you have to go to sleep, you go to sleep, alright?" I needed to teach him obedience and respect for his elders before he got older and started disrespecting his peers out of habit. Korea is such a hierarchical country. I would hate for him to have to deal with the wrath others would give him, if he didn't follow certain customs. Something very similar that I had to go through, actually.

I had a dark past. People excluded me for the things that I felt differently about and was open to. I was never good enough for them. I was different and different was bad. I remember times when I didn't want to come out of my bedroom, because I didn't want to listen to the negative things that floated about in the small community. My parents believed the lies that everyone persuaded them about, despite my attempts for them to hear me out. I was a monster in their eyes.

The teenaged caramel skinned boy wiped his tears angrily, cursing and spitting at the image in front of him. He saw a reflection of someone he did not know. He breathed heavily, almost hyperventilating and carefully grabbed the pair of red scissors that laid silently in his presence. Taking a last look at the past, he snipped away. Chunks of hair floated downwards toward the wooden floor. The boy finished his craft and looked at his finished product. A person he did not know stood in front of him. The old him was nowhere to be found. He quietly made a promise to himself that he would change.

"I will change. I will change. I will change." He repeated, a tear falling from his eye. He turned away from the reflection ashamed, and took the scissors that he gripped and slung it in anger. It flooded him relentlessly. He began to pick up inanimate objects across his small designated area, launching them against the wall. He turned to get one last glimpse of the mask that he wore.

"I'm a monster." He looked at himself in sudden fear, realizing who he became.

He began to blubber with no hint of stopping. He slid down the wall and sat in a crouch; the wall of which had many new holes. Between his stinging eyes, he studied the multiple scars he had inflicted on himself. The anger and hatred for himself came back again like someone who forgot something important, running hurriedly to get it. He started scratching insanely at the scars until they bled. Red rivers covered parts of his lean legs, stopping to congregate near his inner thigh. But the pain felt exhilarating to him. How they filled him with some sort of emotion, gave him some hints of being human. He felt numb any other time, yet he was not immune. He was not immune to all the scowls he recieved. He was not immune to his own parents saying that they hated him.

But there was an ember deep within his heart like a promise. A promise he sought out to keep.

"Daddy! I want to paint!" Hanuel stomped his foot. I looked at him, beginning to feel nothing.

"Fine, let's paint." I picked all of the supplies he uncarefully flung on the ground. I placed Hanuel on the mat, squeezing paint into a pallet, readied his brushes and let him at it. However, he just sat there looking at me in agitation instead. He kept huffing until I grew tired.

"What's wrong, Hanuel? You wanted to paint, so I'm letting you paint. Now what's the problem?" I rubbed my hands through my hair, something I did to calm my nerves. I certainly did not have the time to be fighting with a two year old.

"Daddy paint!" He rolled over and waddled to another paint brush and put it in my hands. Hanuel looked at me with his precious eyes, making me give in.

"Ok, Hani. You can sit down. Daddy will paint with you. I promise." I smiled, checking my phone out of instinct. The clock had finally struck twelve.

We began painting in a tranquil environment.

"Ok, first you make a circle. Can you make a circle, Hani?" I guided his hand skillfully, helping him make a Sun. Hanuel yawned loudly, throwing his head back, mouth wide open. It was about that time for him to go to sleep. I was genuinely surprised that he had lasted that long to begin with considering how young he was.

I checked the clock on my phone once more. It read two thirty. Our heads snapped when we heard the door banging and jolting about. Hanuel's eyes showed immediate fear and he jumped into my arms. To our relief, it was Nala.

She came in unstable and noisily. She stumbled and stumbled, leaning on the wall for support as she took off her sparkly gold stilettos. The curvy woman's hair was practically a mess, and her mascara and eyeliner ran down a bit. Nala made incoherent words and giggled at the unknown. Once she was finished with such a hard task, she walked towards us like she stood on a boat going through a heavy current.

Her dilated eyes met mine and she smiled a smile I did not recognize.

"Daddy, what's wrong with mommy?" Hanuel whispered in my ear, so that she couldn't hear him.

"Its time for bed, Hanuel." I rushed to take him to his room, and lay him down before he saw something that was not meant to be seen.

I entered the living room to Nala plopping down on the couch. She was beyond intoxicated. The woman mumbled words to herself and continued to laugh. Every so often she would frown and clunch her stomach in agony from whatever alcohol filled drinks she had.

"Nala, go to the bed." I nudged her, but she continued to laugh. Nala kicked her leg up and flailed her arms, almost throwing her hand clutch on the ground. Her pink underwear and her boobs were basically hanging out. I rolled my eyes in annoyance and scoffed.

I peeled her up from off of the couch. Nala kicked and moved about trying to get from my grasp, but I wouldn't let her free. When she finally realized that I wasn't going to give up, she hung like an old rag doll. I put her on the bed and unraveled the covers.

"Dimples?" She slurred, eyes shut in contentment.

"Yes, Nala?" I tucked her in, making sure she was snugged in tight.

"I don't feel too g---," vomit shot out from her mouth like a volcano eruption. The stinch arose from the air within seconds. I stood looking at my ruined clothes in horror, my feet covered in undigested chunks of her lunch.

"Fucking gross, Nala!" I cried out.

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