Light.

Xavier was no longer treated as part of the family, not as a son, not even a slave. He felt lower than a dog. Since his father’s death, his life took a turn for the worst. Mother had finally shown her inner demons. With the help of alcohol, his mother turned into one of them, and never failed to brutalize Xavier whenever she saw him. What could Xavier do? He was so weak that he did not even have any energy to run away, lest fight back. She had all the authority she wanted at home, overpowering Xavier like a one-ton truck. All he could do was obey her every whim, hoping not to aggravate her. How he wished that one day, a man clad in bright red trunks with broad muscular shoulders which would make any bodybuilder proud, would come and save him from his despair.

His heart cried out loud for help, this immensely powerful voice that only he could hear. Children his age would usually be bathed in the love of caring parents, but the only things he received were a flurry of blows to his body.
“What happened to the good times?” he thought, always questioning why his mother always beat him up. Before Dad’s death, Mother was a woman who glowed with love for her children. It was a thrill every time they went on an outing together. Mother was the mastermind behind the exciting adventure, planning with specific detail of the activities.

He missed the time where they watched the sunset together. The sky, painted with streaks of blue and orange, with the fireball-like sun setting behind the tall tress. The glorious Sun dimmed his light to let the shy Lady Moon step out to take his place. His golden robe faded into the distance to make way for her glowing gown. That was the last he saw of such light, the warm glow this great ball of fire radiated. His ray of hope disappeared like the sunlight; overwhelmed by the blanket of darkness that covered the area. He hated the sun now, for he knew that as long as the demons had control over mum, he could never play in its warm presence.
He always visualized himself as a normal child, able to laugh and play with children in the neighbourhood, bursting out in chirps at even the smallest thing. Such was the beautiful experiences every child should have, the immature laughter, the way everything seemed so simple. All that seemed like a fantasy to him, it was all wishful thinking. Mother always brought him back to reality with an excruciating pounding. He could take no more of the meaningless badgering.

Deep inside, he wanted to grab a knife and plunge it into the depths of her heart, obliterating her from existence, before ending his own life. He knew plainly killing her would be giving her the easy way out. He wanted her to experience the hell he was in now, making her taste the very core of his vengeance. However, there was still that ounce of hesitation and hope. He always prayed that Mother would return to the woman she was before Dad’s death. That was the only thing that stopped him from even lifting up the knife. He hated his guts. Every night, he would pray for strength to overcome this fight for survival, and for the resurrection of his “good” mother. It never happened.

That was ten years ago. His schoolteachers finally saved Xavier. His teachers alerted the police who took Mother away after seeing many serious bruises all over his body. Mother never returned to the woman who was filled with love and compassion. She remained a deranged maniac, only that she had no outlet to vent her pent up rage on. Xavier was free.

“I’m so alive” he thought, as he stands facing the beauty of the never-ending Pacific Ocean. He stares in awe at the hypnotic power of the waves, the power that made him think back of his terrible past. A giant curl begins to take form, and then breaks with a thundering clap as it crashes on the shore. An invisible mist hits his face, moments before white foamy water drowns his feet. He was relieved to have escaped the chains of Mother’s wrath.

As he watched the sunrise, he felt rejuvenated. The warm rays of the morning sun caressed his chubby cheeks as the morning breeze tossed his raven-black hair. The splendid sunrise had him spellbound as he watched the rising of the majestic sun amidst the splashes of warm hues of red, orange and yellow. Such was the splendour and grandeur of the sunrise. He could feel warmth coming from inside his body, it was Hope. The light filters through the silhouettes of his dark past, opening his eyes to the promising future that lay ahead for him.

somehow i realise that all my compos all contain alot of emo stuff. i cant picture myself writing happy stuff, i shoudl try sometime (:
guess what? i still have so much more hw to do (: