I never understood why Mom always placed me in that small room beside the stable whenever I did anything wrong. She once caught me eating sweeties at my bed without a plate and all of a sudden, her face went red, and with one hand, she gripped me from the hem of my shirt and shoved me into that small room. As she locked the door, I watched from the peephole. She would bring the wireless, call Daddy and tell him that I drove her mad once again. The phone call always ended with Dad yelling at her, “ Piss of,” And of course Mom would run to her room, lock herself up and remain on crying all day long, hoping that an angel would arrive from the sky and help her against me; the merciless devil.
A small window glared at me from the other side of the room, under it, sand bags cuddled up. Strangely enough, these sand bags would vanish by the end of the week and new ones would replace them. May be he was making a beach.
A small window glared at me from the other side of the room, under it, sand bags cuddled up. Strangely enough, these sand bags would vanish by the end of the week and new ones would replace them. May be he was making a beach.