Vicious Cycle

The boy sits alone in his bare, dark room. There are no posters, no toys, only stark white walls and a crack laden ceiling. He notices a cockroach scurrying across the cold, cement floor.

"Will you be my friend?" he asks. Silence.

The cockroach disappears through a crack in the wall.

He hears someone crash through the front door and slowly make his way up the carpetless stairs.

"Daddy's home," the boy whispers.

He curls up in the corner trying to hide, but there is nothing to shield him. He can hear each step as his father approaches, the wood squealing beneath his father's feet. His father staggers toward the boy, like a big, clumsy bear, and reeking of sweat and gin.

"Come here, boy," he slurs in his husky voice. "Come here and touch me like Daddy taught you."

He jerks awake, finding himself in a dark alley. It's thirty years later and the boy is now a man.

He stumbles through the doorway of his home, much like the way his father used to do. In the darkness he sees a small child flee to the corner of the room, trying to hide, much like the way he used to do as a boy.

"Come here, boy," he spits out. "Come here and touch me like Daddy taught you..."