I live in a restricted zone area which is particularly an illegal slum. The government tries any kind of tricks to lure the livers out but nothing works properly failing into trash; And conflicts are common as walking—we also call that area as gang-bang zone.
There were two superiors in the slum who called the whole area and always fought for the area as the tiger fought for their area like a piece of cake killing members of other parties even civilians if they were just passing-by.
I lived in a small and cheap, rented room with my so-called parents. We have two rooms in 4 square feet large enough for three members but there is no washroom. So we have a shared washroom down the building.
My mommy and daddy were teenagers who ran from their home because my mom became pregnant but my grandma and grandpa didn't allow it, so they ran.
In the room we have only one bulb in the middle of the main room for light. I used to live in a dark and dusty room, if i tell the truth i am afraid of darkness—who cares!
And the most interesting thing was my place where I live has a big and open ground, best for conflict 'a prime location' you can say.
When the fight broke out. My parents lock themselves into another room and not letting me in at any cost—I cry, whine and shout.
"Mommy, please open the door."
"Please…"
"I feel scared… hic.. Mommy…"
"Daddy.. Daddy please."
Don't stop—I please them, cry and beg and knock on the door aggressively but from the other side no replies come even once.
When I get tired from trying. I become silent and walk to the corner of the wall—crawling into a scared kitten hiding my face from my arms like it can hide me, it can save me, it can protect me.
Sometimes fights don't end in hours, it takes the whole day too.
I block my ears from my soft palm which were red because of rubbing, my eyes become swallow because of crying but mommy doesn't even come to console me.
You can say their first phase—I hear the clashing of metals and weird sounds like 'thumb' 'thwak' and breaking of objects. And a few times in every fight I hear gun shots.
I usually block my ears but it's so hard that it pierces the skin and starts stitching crazily and trembles in pain. I really feared loud metallic and normal sound.
You can also say I have PTSD—I fear losing. I fear why people always don't pay attention. Why do they lock me in the darkness? Why don't they care for me? Why did they burst out on me?
Yeah what can I do? My brain filled with anxiety and thoughts start to summon as the S-tier magician is crafting a spell.
After the police horns 'wee-woo' sound came they flew away like nothing happened. Oh yeah, police exist in our gang-bang area Huh! But it really doesn't matter. If they are on the place or they are not—fight would continue until they want and become exhausted. It all depend on the two bosses who controlled;
Afterwards, the atmosphere became calm and peaceful.
There our second phase—people start to gather around 'the prime location' and look at the bodies with their phones—mostly younger people. They made something through their phone with an amusing smile—which was filled with disgust and cruelty.
I hate those people who make video's on the poor or even a dead person because of their abnormal death or their features like calling them 'ugly' 'it's small' 'black' 'see how he/she died so amusing' or making fun of their family member when they cry.
I feel frustrated not because of the commenting but because of the noise they make. I also feel annoyed;
When conflict ends, I slowly stand from my position and go to the window with a mischievous smile, my one eyebrow lifted and with an amusing look on my face, crossing my arms from my chest.
I looked down while making a gap from my small and chubby fingers in the curtains. I wait for the moment—it's fun!!
I saw so many bodies, shining in the evening light, beautiful. The clothes are soaked and wet, covering the surrounding with their alluring serum, their becoming containing deep cuts on their flesh—blood!
If their family is still left they have to leave or they are gonna sell options or be murdered directly even making them their own servant without their will.
I always see a woman who means dozens of them with kids too. Some like one year or five years too—it's too boring to see the same drama every time.
Crying and begging a dead person to wake up and repeating those sentences.
"Wake up!! You can't leave me like this." A woman cried in rage, her voice was broken—panicking and hitting the person lightly like it could just wake up and stop being stubborn.
"You promise… you promise… me… you sworn but now…" That woman pleaded with her heart content and clinging to the body and hugging the young man covered in blood, she sobs for a few moments and takes the body with her like it's alive—her mind was broken.
Police tried to stop her but she shouted at them and threatened them and left with a smile and swallow and red eyes.
Another woman said in agony and anger, "Why… you bastard you know that… that would happen… how can you forget that we are still alive. You don't take care of me or you hate me but what about kind and pure souls? You left! Do you not feel pain at all? How can you be so cruel?!"
A boy said about two meters away from that agony woman, crying and shaking the younger ones on the ground, motionless, "Brother… brother… open your eyes." He touched the cuts and bruises, his hands frenched in blood, "Why it's not stopping… I feel scared to stop acting. I don't like these… BROTHER…!!" He shouted and started punching the motionless body on the chest—yelling at the corpse. A man grabbed his arms from the behind and said;
"No use. Come with me, he's already dead."
"Huh?! What do you mean he died? He's just acting, you see."
That grabbed the child's arms tightly—hurting him and said with a smirk on his face and licking his corner of mouth, "You are fair and beautiful with green eyes. I hit the jackpot." that man dragged the kid, no one stopped him—even though they knew what's going to happen with that kid, no one even raised their voice.
A man always came like these and trolled around the ground with a smile tugging on his face, his face crinkled and tanned. He observed and found certain people among them who were outstanding and sold them into the market. You can say a lifelong and easy job for him.
I see those conflicts and scenes now it becomes normal—but even now I can't deal with phonophobia.
In the third and last phase—police clean the area and take the bodies with them and give some advice to the dead person, families to leave their home and shift to another area as soon as possible.
After the conflict ends, my mommy and daddy come out from their hideout with a gloomy and drenched face with sweat—hugging each other with love and fear.
I stare at him with empty eyes with a big smile. My mommy looked at me and her expression changed and became more ugly while daddy patted on the mommy shoulder to comfort her.
I said with excitement, "Mommy, you are here."
"He's again, honey. Take him out of my sight." My mommy said while leaning on the daddy's shoulder.
"Hm… but honey."
"I said. Take him out of my sight. Do you not hear me?"
Daddy nodded, "Hey, you." He pointed at me. I was standing in front of them wearing dirty and holes on my shirts, arms behind my back with happiness, body covered with bruises and becoming purple, "Me?"
"Yeah you. Get in the room and don't show your face to my honey." Daddy said with a low voice.
"Eh? Why… I want to play with daddy and mommy all night."
"You brat. How many times I tell you, don't talk to us like you are so special. Know your place. And go to the room and sleep without any complaint."
"..." I look at the mommy and acknowledge her cruel words with a sad but happy face.
"Okay." and go to my room.
Closing my door behind my back; I lean on the door and sit and start hearing the parents talk.
"I can't be with him now." my mommy said.
"But he is our son." Daddy's voice.
"Blah blah blah blah~"
I stood, understanding nothing and went to my bed and slammed into it like a toddler.
"I can't understand what they are even saying but I think it's something related to me. Hehe…" He giggled and grabbed his cushion and squeezed it tight with his full force, "My mommy and daddy are talking about me. I am so happy."
He looked at the ceiling and the moving fan. And mumbled with a dry smile, my eyes glowing, "they love me."
These days I feel like why do they even give me birth when they don't want it? Why don't they lock themselves in the room and leave me out? Why do they run? Why do they say hurtful things? Why do they talk about me so many times? Why doesn't mommy come near me? Why did mommy beat me? Why did daddy scold me?
At that time I was too old to understand and was always thinking how happy my family would be. If my mommy treats me nicely, console me and daddy play with me.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Author note:-
Sorry for the day:(
I got distract so easily. so i don't get time to write cuz i need to focus on study too and give my time to do my fun yk like watching manhwa and novels.
anyway sorry! sorry!! forgive me.