They went down the stairs.
— "That was really fun!"
— "Come on, come on, let's go down quickly!"
While they were descending, they heard their parents talking with someone.
Gauder suddenly stopped.
He looked from the corner of the stairs…
And saw a police officer leaving their house.
He quickly stepped back.
— "Shh… shh… Goen."
They didn't know if they were in trouble…
But Gauder knew.
His heart was pounding violently.
That bad feeling in his lower stomach returned.
Fear.
But…
There was no escape.
He had to face it.
A knock on the door.
Their mother opened it.
Her eyes were cold…
Like emptiness itself.
— "You two…?"
"Where were you?"
Gauder froze.
Gauder was a somewhat strange boy.
Since childhood…
he was shy.
He didn't talk much.
He didn't look people in the eyes.
They used to call him "the mute."
He didn't interact outside the family.
He grew up.
Made friends.
Then realized…
the problem was not outside the house.
It was inside it.
He was hiding his voice.
Hiding himself.
Hiding his identity.
He didn't know why.
He never said "sorry."
He never hugged his mother.
He never expressed his love.
Every time he tried…
it felt like he was drowning.
Inside the house…
he was not himself.
This created a gap between him and his parents.
They saw him as:
Rebellious.
Stubborn.
Disobedient.
But he saw himself as:
Free.
Real.
His parents…
were once well-off.
He witnessed their glory.
He witnessed their fall.
He witnessed their suffering.
But they were pretending.
Pretending everything was fine.
That the family was perfect.
Like TV families.
Holding onto the past.
Gauder hated that.
He ran from it.
He tried to destroy it.
He hated everything fake.
He loved simplicity.
His friends.
His small life.
Because there…
he was himself.
— "Sorry, sorry Mom!"
Goen said quickly,
and went inside.
He received a light slap on the head,
then ran inside.
Gauder followed him.
He was ready.
He raised his hand to block the strike,
and stepped forward.
He was used to it.
His father was waiting.
Especially for him.
— "Where were you?"
His voice was threatening.
— "On the rooftop."
— "Liar!"
The father stood up angrily.
He approached.
Gauder used to cover his face…
but this time…
he didn't.
He looked at him coldly.
Tired.
— "Is that how you look at your father?"
The father raised his hand…
and slapped him.
A ringing sound in his ears.
As usual.
But Gauder didn't look away.
This was the first time.
The father grabbed his collar
and slapped him again.
Gauder's breathing quickened.
His eyes shimmered.
Tears began to form.
But he didn't cry.
He locked his gaze.
And saw it…
Sadness.
Hesitation.
Fear.
in his father's eyes.
He only wanted to keep him away from trouble.
He didn't want to hurt him.
Gauder understood that.
But…
was this really the right way?
To Gauder…
his father was a good man.
His mother…
was not.
She used the father as a tool of intimidation.
To break him.
To make him obey society.
His relationship with them…
was a mixture of love and hate.
He never knew where to place them in his heart.
The father let him go.
Then grabbed his hand.
And took the device.
— "You will never see this again."
Gauder didn't react.
But…
suffocation swallowed him.
Sadness choked him.
He turned.
And left.
— "Where are you going? You're grounded!"
No answer.
He left.
— "Stop!"
He ran.
The father chased him.
But Gauder was faster.
He opened the door.
And ran out.
Running.
Tears filling his eyes.