if only he could open his eyes

At the end of the street was a Victorian house, tarnishing blue roof top paint were peeling off. The only light source that was coming from inside the grand house was a dim orange-light chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There was a golden photo frame, sitting on a small lacquered wooden top coffee table. In its contents were three smiling faces, with eyes shining with great radiance. A happy bonded family. But soon, this picture would be torn apart, as their lives take a wrong turn

Their jubilation was short-lived. Peals of laughter turned to hostile, ominous mocking. Tom’s parents had an unpleasant fight. Now, they bristled at the mention of each others’ names, making no effort to hide their disdain. Family outings ponderously became strangers. The once adoring hugs changed to smouldering resentment .One evening my dad said placidly, “We have to talk.” His tone was subtle but firm. Undaunted, Tom’s mum followed his dad into the room. It dawned upon Tom that this might be the end of their past lives. He inched towards the door in small, measured steps. Peering through the ajar door, his mum’s face was rock-hard when his dad said with rolling deep voice, “Let’s divorce.” Mum nodded. Neither spoke nor asked questions. He took long breaths, trying to clear his head, trying to think. Wild fragmented thoughts raced through his mind. Will he be dumped at one of his relative’s houses? What will happen if he was left lingering in the dead silent street at night? Hatred filled him. They were selfish. True enough, he was forced to put up at Aunt Raju’s house. “Please take off your shoes before entering,” piped Aunt Raju. "If no one listens to me, then why should I care?" He glared at Aunt Raju, "Did my parents ask me before they had a divorce? Did they take me in?! No! They dumped me here!" Tom stomped into the house, not bothering to follow the instructions that were given to him. Months followed days. To Aunt Raju, Tom was nothing more than a trouble maker.

Through the months, Tom's hatred for his parents grew. They had dumped him, alone, in this lonely, horrible place. Why? He asked himself. Why did this unfortunate thing have to happen to him? Why did his parents have to do this to him?! He felt as if he was the only person in the entire world, with no one to talk to, no one to share his troubles with. He felt that no one trustworthy anymore! As his burden of hatred, loneliness, and hurt grew, he would imagine that his family was the most perfect family in the whole universe. However, he knew that would never, ever come true.

Then, one day, Aunt Raju announced that Tom's parents had planned a day out with him. She told him that he was to stay in his parent's house that night, so they could leave early the next day to for their planned day. They are just putting up a show, thought Tom, to make me think that they still love me, but that will never be true. That very night, as the broken family were preparing for dinner, the door lock clicked, showing that it was being unlocked. Following that, the door's handle turned, and a masked man busted through the door, brandishing a knife.

Instinctively Tom's parents formed a protective human barrier around him, bracing themselves for a fight and to protect their beloved only and son. However, Tom pushed between them and stood in front of them

"I have come to kill you! Your cousin, Slade, sent me! I shall kill the boy first, so he will remain silent forever!" He hollered, charging at Tom.

Tom's heart pounded in his chest. His heartbeat raced. I'm going to die! I'm going to die! I'm going to DIE! Thought Tom. His mother was too stunned to even blink. At the very last moment, Tom's father bent over him, using himself to shield his son. Still, Tom could peek through a gap between his father's head and upper arm. Then he felt a push, and witnessed the attacker’s knife blade slice into his father's bottom left back. Blood splurged out, and began to flow down, down, down. The crimson liquid stained his father's clothes, and laid a track down his legs, accumulating in a puddle under him. The attacker pulled then knife out of his flesh, and Tom's father jerked in perpetual pain. His body went limp, leaving Tom and his mother to support the burden. Tom fixed his gaze on his father's face, knowing that this was the very last time he would see it alive.

His father's face was stretched wide in horror and pain. His sides were heaving with effort.
"I...I love you..." He gasped. However, before he had time to absorb what had just happened, his mother was limp as well. Fear and horror struck Tom like a sledge hammer. His legs would no longer support him, and he let himself, and his parents fall. Tom felt no physical pain, but his heart had been emotionally ripped apart.

Suddenly, the attacker's walkie-talkie crackled to life. "Remember, the couple is childless." Immediately the masked man panted and ran out of the house. Tom's eyes trailed him, his heart filled with a new kind of hatred. He thought he hated his parents, but he did not want them to die, especially not in this way! Then he realized that his parents were trying to speak. "Even though we can no longer love each other any more than friends, that doesn’t mean that we don't love you anymore!" His mother gasped, her gaze was filled with endless love.

“We’ve always wanted the best for you! We love you much, much more than you think." His father stammered. Tears spilled from the family's six eyes as they were reunited. Tom wept. Then, the tears stopped flowing from first his mother, then his father. It was then that Tom realized that his parents were dead.

Grief overwhelmed him like a strong, fresh wave, drowning him in its endless depths. Agony and brokenness grew inside him. Now he was really alone! This hurt was too much for him to bear! All night, he sat by his parents' cold bodies, weeping and wailing and screaming and shouting. There was nothing left for him; everything was gone by the murderer’s hands.

If only Tom had opened his eyes that his parents actually loved him, he would not have felt this way. If only he had realized sooner, that the warmth that surrounded him in the beginning had never changed, he could have prevented this from happening. In his regretful state, all he could do was sit in his sorrow as his parents became a memory. As time passed like years in a century, he grew tired of crying. He withdrew into his shell as the world continues to revolve around him.