"Where have you been?" My father spoke in our native tongue, figure blending into the dark. I froze solid at the first step of the stairs, out of breath and sore.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

The Threat falls like venom from is tongue freezing my nerves. I'm Drowning in fear but Swallowed the thick burning acid in my throat, shakily walking towards his figure. Clenching my fiddling fingers whilst Stepping into the darkness before him

"I - I was with a friend." Even I could barely hear myself in the midst of my drumming heartbeat. My eyes peering down to the outline of his shoes, a foul smell of alcohol radiates from his clothes.

"Friend?" He chuckled with a raspy, sniffling harshly, I shook from the sudden jerk of his body. "What friend?"

A question I have always dreaded to be asked ever, especially by him. I gulped, clock ticking in the background while I'm silently creating a scenario fast.

My little borrowed time ends and His shoes suddenly flicked, My bones jerked in panic, "A girl" I blurt slightly stepping back in fear.

Large body relaxed back into the couch, outline of his head slowly cocks to the left in question.

"My best friend, she is -" running out of words, my eyes slowly glided to the window and a fresh memory returned; the curtains, that shadow, those eyes, The little girl. Bingo. "The neighbors daughter down the street."

The silence returns, my blood pumps with intensity to the anxiety. What is going on on his mind? What have I said that did not line up? my father being a ticking time bomb regardless, it should not have to depend on me to ease the mood. I have said my part and not leave his question to linger awkwardly in the air.

However, despite me answering his question it still doesn't help the raging jitters in my nerves, there is more to it somewhere just spiraling.

Slowly he leans in, "Is that so?"

My finally settling heart rate dissipates thumping with fire in my veins at the reverse physiological question. As if I'm swallowing lava, I nearly choked on the truth rolling down my throat leaving an acid feeling inside.

"Y-yes sir." My voice cracked, Nails breaking the first layer of my skin.

Flames blowing out of my nasal streams. For the very first time of my life, I have lied. Lied right through my teeth, I'm flooded with unease, angry at myself for not properly timing this through, but this was a surprise. What was he doing home? Normally I'd never see him until certain a time, hence how I have gone most of my child life cleverly timing everything.

Not all was perfect obviously, but it got me by. I can only pray he asks me nothing further, for the consequences would be dire if the truth does slip from my tongue.

The silence was eating me away until thankfully he Sniffles sharply before he exhales, "I'm going to need you to start selling something soon." He breathes gruffly.

A relieving breath breaks from my lips, it would seem my bluff has been successful. The conversation dismisses and he is into another one, I'm not too happy about where it's headed but as long as he doesn't poke at the subject any further.

The doctor makes extra effort to never leave any evidence in our fridge and Shelves, whatever remainder crumb I could not finish the rats have ransacked letting it stay empty was a bonus to the lie.

"What is it?"

Once again he sniffles sharply rising up to his height, out of instinct I flinched squeezing my eyes shut awaiting any impact but instead his figure brushes past by me headed to the kitchen. The foul smell of alcohol blends in with his poor hygiene of no shower for a few days waters my eyes.

"Come here," he commands grabbing my bicep roughly, hard nails piercing the flesh. A sense of urgency in his strides and the lights flickered on, a baby mice sniffling a strange powder on the table before it was swatted away.

Before me was a pile of a white powdery substance spilling onto the table, oozing from a brown bag. A strange familiarity to sugar or a salt mineral yet the smell was more chemical. Confusion displaying onto my expression staring At the multiple brown squares alike.

"You are going to forget whatever life and friend you think you have and start selling these quickly." he suddenly blurts.

Me eras erect like a hound, Is he serious? From across the table I look up to him, red eyes glaring down at my figure sternly. It would seem he is.

"Uhh I don't know how." I don't how I softly muttered.

A sudden agitation overcame him, "What do you mean, hmm? You telling me you can't sell or you won't?"

"I don't know how." I try and clarify.

A vein pops up in his neck and his lips snarled, in one swift movement both his arms flair to a nearby wooden chair, angrily he raises it up in the air and it comes crashing to the ground with a crack. In fear and shock I step back from the action with tears trailing down my neck while he continues to demolish the wood, heavy breathes and growls as he roars slurs and curses.

I'm too frozen in fear but continuously look between the distance from and the stairs. I could outrun him, but there wasn't many places to run to in this small house, outside was much worse.

"Pathetic" he spats shaking me back to reality. "You are pathetic and should have been sold with your brother." Foam whitening at the corners of his mouth.

Bullets impale my heart as such a statement, I'm used to such terms but bringing my deceased brother into this was a whole different scenario. I try to not react, not giving him what he wants. The narcissism runs deep in his veins in an attempt to control my emotions, I stare at my feet not giving him the pleasure of watching the tears build at the rim.

Wincing to every shatter that collides to the floor, at any moment I could be next, so why do I linger still in the vicinity of danger? probably because my cowardly father would strike when I am not looking, buts something really dawning on me questiongly.

Of all times he'd lose his temper and emotions this one just felt different. My father would never ask of me anything, let alone even acknowledge I am alive but a mere scapegoat in whatever failed gamble he participates in. I could hear a desperation in his tone, fear and urgency. Like there is no going back and no room for mistakes.

It is not my fight, all his attempts of getting rid of me fails, but this one in particular brings slight worry to me. It only makes me question what is it he has gotten himself into this time? and how will we get out of this, with him still being my guardian.

Out of breath and no luck he plants himself on the ground, bringing his knees to his chest shaking and crying under the dim flickering light in the kitchen. While I divert my attention to the powder on the table, attentively staring in wonderment when we shake from a sudden knock at the door.

My father's head whips towards it, eyes tearing from his sockets, pure fear fogging his orbs. "Fuck" he sniffles, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

No more did I question anything as of now, His fear was suddenly my fear. Another knock on the door, Whoever was on the other side did not leave until it was answered.

"I'm not ready." My father roars bringing himself up to his feet but that didn't stall anything. "Fuck." he cries, whipping his head left and right for some kind of escape, fingers gripping patches of his thin gray hair, our house was way too small and crappy.

No other choice, shakingly headed for the door while I try and blend into the background. Shrinking my frame as much as possible to not be seen by - any one of his friends on the other side.

As if he pulls ankers my father's steps were steady, and sluggish.

Loud drums resound in my ear canal with anticipation as he twisted open the rusty knob of the door, wind blowing through the open spaces bringing the foul smell of my fathers right to me, all I am able to see is the dark background in the sky, but someone is indeed before him.

At the door, A few inches taller neatly coiffed white hair with dark grey strands, my fathers stance softens; A sign this isn't someone he knows or feared. Slightly curious I stepped forth, keeping in the shadows of the home.

"Is A Nasir home?" A rasp of a man, deep and well mannered.

I'm stilled with terror at my name spewed by a stranger, Without fully looking at my frozen direction my father slightly glances towards my frozen presence with a side eye before raising his arms to lean in against the door frame.

It was as if he shielded me, "What business did we make?" He questioned with a tone, a demeanor in which he was taking control of the conversation.

My legs wobble with worry, beads of sweat crawl down my temple, who is here for me?

"I am sent by her heinous sir to check on the young boy's wounds."

"Her heinous?"

Her heinous? I think inwardly to myself. Finally my fathers arm falls and the face of an elder man instantly meets mine. Eyes hidden behind glasses but the furrowed brows made the obvious expression loud. Yet he was not familiar; though very well mannered there was a difference in physique and attire.

In all fitted green butlers attire with black shoes, a golden crest upon the vest. It is familiar, Like that of the one from the palace A symbolism, royalty, only those beside her is to wear such fine jewelry,

It Couldn't be, someone was already here to tend to my wounds, she sent him already - didn't she? but he said my name. Even pronounces it correctly, all eyes on me while I divert mines, incapable of my father's scorching glare.

"Master Nasir correct?" The man spoke, bringing the glasses down to the bridge of his nose to get a better look at me, and I swore I saw my reflection in his Sky blue eyes.

My Fingers jitter violently; unable to fathom words, is my name Nasir?

"Answer him boy!" My father roars startling both me and the butler beside him. Brown skin reddening as his eyes protrude at me, tone seething with rage with his lips curling backwards.

Death is too busy collecting the souls of my neighbors to come and take me with him. "Y-yes" I mumble focusing on the ground.

"What business do you have with the king?" Maniacally my father steps forth to me.

"I do apologize sir, I was sent by the princess. It would seem Nasir had a bruise on his leg when they were together this evening." The butler corrects and I wished then to die when I was supposed to; my bluff, the story, the girl. Everything I created just came tumbling down right in my face, my heart thumps violently, oxygen deflates, skin icing from the lack of breaths.

"This evening?" My father questioned towards the butler.

"Indeed sir"

I can hear my world shattering before me, unconsciously stepping backwards from my fathers glare, shivering right through my teeth. This is why I don't lie, the truth will somehow find its way out whether I say it or A higher power shows it.

"May I step inside?" The man spoke.

"Yes." My father mumbles, glare intent on me.

"Thank you sir." A leather suitcase at his side, shoes click onto the ground of the tiled floor as he steps in, a distasteful look in his eyes scanning our surroundings before they paused at the table. standing in between the line of shadow and the very dim light in our home, the light reflecting from his glasses clears allowing me wo see his sky blue orbs.

Distaste, pity and judgment.

"Have I interrupted something?" he prods with a rasp, the statement itself drips with discernment.

Funny he says that now. No response from my father but he knew exactly as to the reason of such statement, Instead stands in his view with his arms folded, mind your business his eyes read from my point of view at least.

"Mmm very well, alright Lad shall we?" The elder man proceeds stepping closer towards me, "Have a seat please."

No need to even deny it further, my bluff has has been exposed, rather take the aid now considering I might lose more when he is gone. Pulling a chair towards the living room my fathers plants himself, stoically gazing at the scene in thought.

I can only imagine the worst of the worst and what is yet to come judging by the calmness. Soft Ice cold finger wrap around my ankle, instant pain floods my whole body earning a sharp wince, he isn't like the other provider. The other one touched my bruises as if I were an object made of the finest delicacies, there were no pain only a nurturing hand like my mothers.

I refused to believe he was sent by the Princess, or the fact that she had anything to do with this at all. Her character itself is of course caring and that is who she is, unaware of my predicaments when we are apart and I've never informed her. Immediately there was a A heavy difference in the two from the last man until this one.

My father's shoulders lighten in the background, wasn't he just on the ground cradling himself? I slightly glance up to him, eyes intent on the man kneeling before me, not a care for my well being and obvious winces but the light color of the uniform on the man. Trimmed hair with a rich attire covering him fully down the white gloved hands and polished black shoes, Gold shimmering crest and buttons, even the medical supplies were burnished.

An idea swirls in his orbs and I shivered.

Time have soon stretched and the man finally sighs collecting his belongings. Only my father remained stoic in the silence whereas I relax my facial expression as the pain subsides. "Alright now young man." He says rising to his height.

"These are topicals in which you will be instructed to apply on the stitches to reduce healing." There was an urgency in his breath, not even a glance at my direction, but a sense of urgency to remove himself from the establishment.

Still adjusting to the pain around my body an immense exhaustion traveling within me and I force my heavy eyelids to awaken, realizing than it'll only be me and my father.

"Wait" I mumble weakly, having no memory as to how this exhaustion came about, not even the quickening heart beats can shake me from this needy slumber. I'm fearful from the looks of my father, the sinister glares he send to the unknowing man shake me to the core but that isn't even compared to the real damage I'll face.

Vision Slowly fading as the man and my father exchange a few words, a calculated glare was sent to his back until he was out the door, swirling colors and images nothing solid to grasp and I squeeze my eyes shut in attempt to recollect it -- as if I was drugged.

I watched his every move, winced to some but majority of my eyes were locked in. My head misconducts and wobbles until it plopped down on the prickly couch, one by one losing control of my muscles and conscious. Dazedly my eyes wonder about, roaming around the room in the empty places, brokenly my breath leaving my lungs shuddering from a sudden chill in my veins.

A shadow emerges just as I was slipping; outline of a short man with a large belly, A tear trickles down on the side of my temple expecting for anything to happen when especially since I am not capable of defending myself or dodging his strikes. Instead he sits across from me, short frame sinking into the couch, room darkening into the bathroom as I succumb to the heavy need.

Not before catching a sinister gleam into his eyes.